


And I Found Myself Again

by starchase



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Friends to Lovers, M/M, Non-Idol AU, Romance, Slow Burn, learning to heal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-12 23:57:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 53,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14738232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starchase/pseuds/starchase
Summary: 25 year old Kim Mingyu suddenly finds himself single after the breakdown of a long-term relationship. With the help of his spirit, Wonwoo, by his side, he begins to find the pieces of himself again as he learns how to heal. And maybe, how to find love again.





	1. Prelude

  _“Okay,” the teacher began, looking around his class of young children. “Who knows what spirits are?”_

_All hands flew into the air. The teacher smiled. “Wow! I've got a really smart class this year, don't I? Okay, and who would like to tell me what spirits are?”_

_Several hands went down then; the children that were a little more shy._

_The teacher continued to give his easy, encouraging smile. “Jaein?” He asked, gesturing at a small boy with round cheeks. His tiny tortoise spirit was cradled in his lap, held in one chubby hand. “Spirits are part of our souls.”_

_“Good answer!” The teacher said, nodding, before gesturing at a little girl, her own spirit, in the form of a black kitten, curled up against her leg. “How about you, Haemi?”_

_The girl, putting on what she thought was a serious face, answered clearly. “Spirits are our other half.”_

_“That's a nice way to put it,” the teacher said, nodding at her. His own spirit, a golden retriever, raised his head to look over briefly, before settling it back down onto his paws again, where he lay, curled up into a ball, next to the teacher's desk._

_“Have you heard your parents, or other adults, describe spirits and people as 'two halves of a whole' before?”_

_There were mostly nods amongst the children at that._

_“And, do any of you know what that actually means?”_

_Almost as a whole, the class shook their heads._

_“Then now is the perfect time to explain it, right?”_

_The teacher leant down over his desk, picked up a couple of sheets of paper, before straightening back up in front of the class again. “Okay, so, take this cake, for example,” he started, holding a picture of a cake in both hands, for all the children to see. “Now, imagine you cut it in half.” He flipped the page over, to show a picture of the same cake cut into two pieces. “Now there are two pieces, but they're both the same cake. So you get two halves of a whole. Which is what our spirits are to us. We're one being, and one soul, separated into two.”_

_There were some faces now that looked a bit confused, and other children who were nodding along, understanding, or pretending to understand._

_The teacher smiled brightly, and clapped his hands. His spirit raised his head again at the sound, his tail giving one slow, thoughtful beat against the ground. The teacher shot his spirit a smile, before looking back at the classroom full of children._

_“Alright, enough of that. Why don't you all tell me a little bit about your spirits now, then?”_

_An excited, eager chatter rippled through the classroom, the children all too happy to talk about their own spirits._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a long one, guys. What have I done.


	2. End

 “...Gyu?”

 

Mingyu opened his eyes, at the quiet voice calling his name. He blinked, surprised, at how darkness seemed to have suddenly descended within the room. “How is it so late already?” He said, blinking. He hadn't fallen asleep though, that much he knew.

 

“You zoned out for awhile there.”

 

He looked down, saw the familiar, comforting sight of Wonwoo, his fennec fox spirit, curled up in his lap. Wonwoo’s head was raised, large ears perked forward, as he gazed up at Mingyu now.

 

“Sorry about that.”

 

If Mingyu hadn't been sleeping, then neither had Wonwoo.

 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

 

Mingyu shook his head. But Wonwoo continued to gaze up at him, eyes steady and unwavering. After a few minutes of this, Mingyu sighed. He ran one hand over his face, before combing his fingers back through his hair.

 

“I just...I just feel awful, you know?” He started, not quite meeting Wonwoo's eyes.

 

He felt the pressure against his thigh, as Wonwoo let his head settle back into place again.

 

Wonwoo let out a quiet sigh. “I know.”

 

“Is this... Was it really...” Mingyu groaned, struggling to find the words he wanted to say. But Wonwoo couldn't actually read his mind, and it felt as if voicing some of his feelings out loud might help, even just a little. Then they might stop spinning around Mingyu's head, instead. His voice went small – unusually so, for Mingyu – as he finally found his words. “Was this really the best decision?” He asked in a way that implied he already had a feeling he knew what Wonwoo would say. “It's not like we're any happier now...”

 

“Mingyu.” There was a soft warning in Wonwoo's voice. He gave a couple, light, swishes of his tail against Mingyu's leg. “You know it was the right thing.”

 

“But was it?” And now, Mingyu did meet Wonwoo's eyes. The only creature he could so easily bare his thoughts to like this, because he and Wonwoo were one and the same. “Was it really that bad? I feel so much more miserable now.”

 

Wonwoo nudged Mingyu's leg with his nose – a little harder than necessary. “Stop it,” Wonwoo admonished. “You know none of that's true. I was there too.” His voice softened a little then, and the nudge of his nose did, too, becoming more an encouraging nuzzle this time. “You can't think like that. You remember how bad it got, at the end there.”

 

Mingyu let out a long breath, head tipping against the back of the couch. He draped an arm across his face. Wonwoo's words were right, though, and the memories came back, unbidden.

 

Through his mind those memories danced; the slow deterioration of his relationship. How what had once been love and devotion had wilted, turning into something ugly and hurtful. Unrecognisable over time, to Mingyu's heart.

 

But when he thought back, to how things had been, the last few months they'd been together, he knew really that Wonwoo was right. He might be miserable now, they both were, but things had definitely been worse then. His emotions had been stretched thin for months, before, swaying from happiness to insecure doubts all the time. Never knowing where he stood, where they stood. Why things had grown the way that they had. Mingyu had been sure, so sure, that he'd been tending his heart, and their relationship, with such care.

 

How had something that had once been beautiful and given him such joy, grown to be so ugly and distorted?

 

It had made him doubt everything. Himself, their relationship, _him_. Doubts weren't a thing to usually bother Mingyu, they didn't fit in with the way he tended to live his life, bounding up towards each new thing and person with the eager, enthusiasm of a too-friendly dog. (So Wonwoo liked to tell him, anyway, when he was teasing Mingyu). To find himself suddenly constantly questioning every little thing was new and painful.

 

“Was any of it real?” He wondered out loud.

 

He felt Wonwoo shift a little in his lap. “You know the answer to that, too,” he said simply, after a long moment of silence slipped between them.

 

Of course. Of course it had been real. All of it. The happiness at the beginning; the confusion in the middle, and the pain at the end.

 

“It's only been a month.” Wonwoo uncurled himself from his position in Mingyu's lap, and he jumped with ease to the back of the couch now instead. A moment later, Mingyu felt Wonwoo nosing against his cheek, a rough, familiar feeling. “You're allowed to still be sad.”

 

“Wise words,” Mingyu said, trying for dryness, but just sounding like he'd given up, instead.

 

Wonwoo nudged harder with his nose. “Let's get something to eat.”

 

Mingyu pushed himself up from the couch, and Wonwoo leapt down to the floor, following behind into the kitchen.

 

Where he might have ignored himself, Mingyu could never really ignore his spirit.

 

**

 

Life went on. There were bills to pay, so there was work to do. Mingyu had friends and family, and social obligations. Sometimes, he wished he could mope about in bed all day, but Mingyu's natural disposition was easy going and upbeat, and despite being pretty miserable still inside, there was a part of himself that just wouldn't let him not live his life. It was very inconvenient, he thought, his emotions not matching his disposition.

 

“Hitting snooze on the alarm because I like sleeping just isn't the same thing,” he said to Wonwoo one morning, as he was getting himself dressed and ready for work.

 

“How is it different?” Wonwoo questioned, looking up briefly from where he'd been grooming himself.

 

“One is because I've always had trouble getting up in the morning,” Mingyu explained. “The other is just moping about. I can't mope.”

 

“What was that you were doing last night, then?”

 

“Not the same thing,” he insisted. He ran his fingers back through his hair, trying for a 'lazy tousled' look. His hair fell back into place, perfectly. Mingyu pouted at his reflection.

 

“I thought the whole point of ice cream and sad movies was about moping?”

 

Mingyu shot Wonwoo a look – a look Wonwoo missed, because he'd returned to licking one of his paws clean.

 

“Anyway, it's difficult.” He tried for a different track, this time. “I can't just...just stop my life, because I feel like shit.”

 

“No, you can't,” Wonwoo agreed.

 

“But I kind of wish that I could.”

 

There were a few, long moments of silence between them before eventually, in a small voice, Wonwoo said, “He's not worth it, Gyu.”

 

Mingyu, sighing, hung his head. “I know.”

 

A moment later, he felt a weight against his legs, and knew it was Wonwoo, wrapping himself around Mingyu, offering comfort. He felt Wonwoo's nose against his calf. “Let's get to work. There's that large party coming in today, right?”

 

Mingyu pulled himself up straight, giving himself one last look over in the mirror. Probably a good thing he worked in the kitchen, he thought, with the bags beneath his eyes he wasn't fit to be seen by the public. He'd have to do as he was, though.

 

“Oh, yeah. Someone's thirtieth tonight, I think. I forgot about that, thanks.” He leant down, reaching to scratch Wonwoo behind one of his large ears.

 

“I know you forgot, that's why I reminded you.”

 

Before the lovely ear scratching could turn into any kind of retaliation, Wonwoo was off like a shot, leaping a couple of feet out of Mingyu's immediate reach. He turned to look back at Mingyu, tail swishing slowly behind him. “Come on, you don't want to be late.”

 

“I'll get you later for that,” Mingyu warned.

 

Wonwoo was laughing, as they left the apartment.

 

 

**

 

“Why are we here?” Mingyu all but hissed to Wonwoo.

 

“Because he's your cousin. And you agreed to this months ago.”

 

Mingyu gave Wonwoo a look that suggested he was not at all pleased by this serious answer. Wonwoo laughed.

 

“Well. That was before.”

 

Wonwoo nipped at Mingyu's ankle, resulting in a sudden curse in response. “No, we're not thinking about it today, remember?”

 

Mingyu gave Wonwoo an injured look, even though he'd barely felt Wonwoo's teeth in the first place. He turned to look over his shoulder, at the entrance behind him. There were people going past Mingyu, greeting him politely, before entering the building behind him. He knew he'd have to go in soon, if he was going to go in at all.

 

He also knew that, of course, he would go in anyway.

 

“It's a wedding,” he said, turning back towards Wonwoo again. “It's hard not to think about it.”

 

“You're not alone today though, remember. Minghao's in there.”

 

Mingyu nodded. He hated this, feeling this way. It was so unlike him, so far from the Mingyu he'd known himself to always be. He missed the person that he had been, and that in itself was a strange, new feeling for him as well. The Mingyu he had been, five years ago, would not have believed how much change one person, and one relationship, could bring about in himself.

 

“Stop.” Wonwoo gave a little bark, drawing Mingyu's attention back to him. “We're going to go inside. You'll smile and hug Sejong and congratulate him, and then you'll sit with Minghao, and you guys can trash talk all the terrible suits you see today.”

 

Mingyu hummed.

 

“Come on. Baby steps, remember. Because you're a big baby.”

 

“I am not!”

 

“Prove it.”

 

Mingyu huffed, throwing his hands into the air. “You're the worst.”

 

Wonwoo yipped, nudging at the back of Mingyu's legs with his head. “I know. Come on.”

 

With that, Mingyu let his long legs propel him into the building. It was obvious the place was set up for a wedding today, even the hallway leading into where the wedding itself was being held was decked out beautifully, with flowers and ribbons and things Mingyu didn’t even have names for. No expense had been spared, it seemed, for Mingyu's cousin and his bride-to-be.

 

Mingyu tried not to think about how _he_ was supposed to be here today, with him.

 

He spotted Minghao, already seated on the groom's side, saving a seat beside him for Mingyu.

 

“Hey,” Mingyu greeted, dropping himself into the empty seat. “Thanks again for coming with me.”

 

Minghao's spirit Hansol, a maned wolf, was lying beneath Minghao's chair, his long legs curled up under him. Wonwoo went up to Hansol, sharing a greeting, before settling himself out of the way beneath Mingyu's chair.

 

“Don't mention it,” Minghao said easily. He gave Mingyu a long, assessing look. “How are you doing?”

 

Mingyu, avoiding meeting Minghao's eyes, shrugged his shoulders. “I'm fine.”

 

Minghao looked unconvinced, but didn't push.

 

They talked, mostly about Minghao's work, until the ceremony began, which didn’t take long, considering how much time Mingyu had spent standing outside.

 

“Wow.” Minghao leant over towards Mingyu, whispering in his ear, when the bride and groom were stood before everyone. “Sejong's a lucky man.”

 

“He really is,” Mingyu whispered back. “She's great. I'd almost marry her myself,” he joked.

 

Minghao had to hold back a laugh, and settled for nudging Mingyu in the side, lightly.

 

As Mingyu watched two people he knew exchange their vows, rings, and their hearts, he was absolutely not feeling a little teary, at all. “There's something in my eye,” he whispered, when Minghao gave him a look.

 

He could feel Wonwoo's tail flutter softly against the back of his leg. There was definitely something in his eye. It wasn't because it was a beautiful ceremony, or because Mingyu was a bit of an emotional mess these days. (He also hadn't cried the other day, when he'd dropped half his lunch on the floor. Emotions were fun).

 

It was easier once the ceremony was over, and the reception had begun. Mingyu was grateful that Minghao was seated at the same table as he was, because everyone else at their table were strangers and a couple of casual acquaintances. Mingyu was fine making small talk with people, but it was good to know he had Minghao there beside him all the same.

 

“Hey, Mingyu,” one of the guys, Dongmin, spoke up, after they had all received their first course. “Where's your boyfriend tonight? The writer guy?”

 

Mingyu, who had been leaning down to offer Wonwoo some of his food, looked up sharply. He supposed he should have prepared himself for someone to ask him about it, but he hadn't, and he could feel his heart drop at the sudden question.

 

He could feel Wonwoo still beneath his hand.

 

“We broke up.”

 

“Really?” Dongmin continued, speaking casually. He was leaning on the table, looking at Mingyu. “That's a shame. He was pretty cool. What happened? This his replacement?” He gestured at Minghao, who was bristling, beside Mingyu.

 

“Hey.” Minghao said. “How's your life been? Any painful incidents you want to tell us about?” Hansol had his head resting in Minghao's lap, and was quietly watching the proceedings.

 

Wonwoo remained still beside Mingyu, but he could feel the tension now beneath his fur.

 

Dongmin looked surprised, blinking at Minghao's words. His own spirit, a chipmunk, had run into one of Dongmin's pockets, seeking refuge.

 

“Come on, man,” one of the other men around the table said, trying to break the sudden tension. “Not cool. Let's talk about something else, yeah?”

 

“Yeah, sure.” Dongmin shrugged, before looking over at Mingyu. “Sorry, I didn't know.”

 

Mingyu shrugged, and offered whatever type of smile he could summon in the moment. “It's fine. No big deal.”

 

It took a few more moments for both Wonwoo and Minghao to let themselves relax, but Mingyu felt it when they both eventually did. He kept feeding bits of food from his plate to Wonwoo, to distract himself; not that Wonwoo needed the food.

 

Minghao went back to eating his own food, and started asking Mingyu how work had been for him lately. Something safe.

 

He heard Wonwoo let out a quiet sigh, echoing the breath that Mingyu had been holding. Whilst the meal continued, course after course making its way on to their table, Minghao made a pointed effort to keep Mingyu engaged in conversation the entire time, and even Hansol was joining in half of the time as well. Mingyu appreciated the effort.

 

The rest of the evening passed along without any further incident. Mingyu might have ended up drinking a little too much, and had forced Minghao to dance with him for most of the night after dinner had ended, but really, that was what weddings were about, right?

 

It was later than Mingyu would have planned, when he and Wonwoo finally got back to the apartment. He sent Minghao a quick text, once again thanking him, in classic Mingyu sentimentality, for being there for him today. (Minghao sent a being-sick emoji back, in response).

 

“Wonwoo,” Mingyu whined, falling back onto the bed, giving up in his fight to pull his trousers off. He flailed his legs helplessly. Maybe he'd had one glass of champagne too many...

 

Wonwoo snorted, jumping lightly up onto the bed. “You idiot.”

 

“Please.”

 

“How old are you?”

 

“Wonwoo...”

 

“Because I certainly can't be _your_ spirit. You're five years old, and I'm not.” He let out a laugh, before taking the hem of Mingyu's trouser between his small, sharp teeth, and tugged. “Gyu,” he mumbled around a mouthful of fabric. “A little help here.”

 

Mingyu muttered something incomprehensible, and reached down to help.

 

“You can do the rest yourself,” Wonwoo said. He was laughing quietly the entire time, as Mingyu stumbled around, complaining about the effort it took to get undressed.

 

But eventually he managed it, and Mingyu flopped down onto his bed, a happy sigh escaping him as his body met the mattress. Bed felt amazing in this moment. Wonwoo sighed in agreement, after settling in his usual spot, curled up in the curve behind Mingyu's knees, on top of the blankets.

 

There was quiet between them for many moments, and it almost seemed the both of them had fallen asleep, until Mingyu's voice, suddenly loud in the dark hush of his bedroom, broke the silence.

 

“You remember that time, when I was like, eight,” he started, “and we tried to see how far apart we could be from each other?” He didn't move, still laying where he was, on his side. Wonwoo made a soft noise in answer; he was listening.

 

It wasn't an unusual thing for young children to do, to test the limits between themselves and their spirits. Mingyu and Wonwoo had been no different.

 

Mingyu and Wonwoo both could remember that moment as if it were yesterday, the pain a ghost to remind them of what they were to each other.

 

They had been in a small field where they had liked to climb trees as children, and Mingyu could remember how it felt when they were six feet apart from each other. Even then, he'd felt a sharp pain in his chest, and a pressure, tugging him back towards Wonwoo, towards his soul.

 

“Come on, Wonwoo,” Mingyu had said, with all the reckless curiosity of his eight year old self. “Just a couple more steps! We can do it!”

 

And they had tried, Wonwoo had taken a couple of steps forward, and so had Mingyu. As they'd moved even further apart from each other, the pain had increased. A white hot heat, that had taken Mingyu's breath away. The most agonising thing he'd ever felt, even beating the time he'd thought he'd broken his arm, a year before. Wonwoo had howled in pain, and the sound had torn right the way through Mingyu.

 

They'd ran back to each other then, shaking and distressed, and Mingyu had clutched Wonwoo so tightly to himself, tears streaming down his face.

 

“He's your soul,” Mingyu's mother had said to him, wiping his tears away and kissing his cheeks. Her own spirit, a border collie, was busy taking care of Wonwoo, in much the same fashion. “You're not supposed to be apart.”

 

Mingyu's curiosity on that front had forever been sated, after that.

 

His voice came softer now, as he spoke to Wonwoo, soul to soul. “It feels like that.”

 

His words hung heavy in the darkness.

 

He felt as Wonwoo nudged the back of Mingyu's leg with his face, and sighed.

 

“I know.”

 

At least, Mingyu thought, he wasn't going through this alone.

 

**

 

The year slipped into March quietly and without fanfare, the weather cold but mild. Winter was beginning to release its grip upon the world, and there was a hint of sweetness in the air, of spring waiting just around the corner. The sun was out that day, though Mingyu barely noticed, because he'd been busy working in the kitchen. Lunchtime that afternoon had been quiet in the restaurant, until a large group of business workers had come in for a corporate lunch. It had gone from practically dead, to a suddenly stressful lunch service pretty fast after that.

 

Mingyu was standing in the wake of the mess in the kitchen, when Chan came through from the dining room. His spirit Jeonghan, a beautiful looking lilac ragdoll cat, followed slowly behind him.

 

The look on Chan's face said it all.  
  
“Are they gone? Is it over?”

 

Chan nodded, letting out a long, slow sigh of relief.

 

“Oh thank god. That was unexpected. I'll help clean up,” Mingyu offered.

 

“You better,” Chan said, which really Mingyu knew meant 'thanks', in Chan's own way. At least, that's what Mingyu had decided that it meant.

 

There was plenty of time for them to get the dining room cleaned up and sorted out, as the restaurant closed for a few hours before dinner service began. Mingyu was in the middle of carrying some plates back through to the kitchen when he felt his phone vibrating in his back pocket. “Oh, crap,” he mumbled, shouldering open the kitchen door, putting the plates down by the sink, before pulling his phone out.

 

The colour fled Mingyu's face, as he saw the number that was calling him. Wonwoo was suddenly all attention, staring up at Mingyu, concerned. He could feel the sudden shift in Mingyu's demeanor.

 

“What is it?” Wonwoo asked, jumping up, his front paws resting against Mingyu's legs.

 

“He's calling me,” Mingyu said, almost mechanically. “ _He's_ calling me. Why is he calling me?” He continued to just stare at the phone, still buzzing insistently in his hand, frozen in action. “What do I do?”

 

“Don't answer it,” Wonwoo said quickly. “Let it go to voicemail.”

 

An eternity seemed to pass before Mingyu's phone finally stopped ringing. Wonwoo hadn't moved, and he continued to stare up at Mingyu, watching every emotion that did (or didn't) cross his face. A minute later, Mingyu's screen lit up, notifying him of a voicemail.

 

“He's left a message. Shit. What does he _want?”_ He looked down at Wonwoo, helplessly, and Wonwoo stared back up at him.

 

“I don't know, Gyu,” Wonwoo started, speaking slowly, clearly trying to calm Mingyu. “But you don't have to listen to it. You don't owe him anything.”

 

Mingyu responded without even pausing to think about it, as usual. “No,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “I will. It'll bother me, if I don't listen to it.”

 

“Okay,” Wonwoo agreed. “But you can leave it ‘til later. It's not urgent.”

 

He shook his head again. “If I don't listen to it now, I'll be thinking about it all night.” And Mingyu wasn't usually one to dwell on things, but having something like that, sitting in the back of his mind, his curiosity would burn a hole in his thoughts.

 

The door opened then, and Chan stepped through, more plates in hand. He gave Mingyu a puzzled look, as he headed towards the sink. “You okay?” he asked, amidst the clatter of the plates falling into the sink.

 

Mingyu was still standing there, half frozen, with his phone in hand. He looked up. “Oh, yeah, fine!” He said, forcing a smile at Chan. “I just have to make a phone call. I'll be back in a minute.”

 

Chan shrugged a shoulder, before he and Jeonghan went back out into the dining room.

 

“Let's get this over with,” Mingyu said. He went out the back door, Wonwoo right behind him. He sat himself down on the step, and for a few, long moments, just stared at his phone. Wonwoo placed a paw against Mingyu's knee. “Okay, I'm gonna do it.”

 

He was still, as he dialled the number for his voicemails, and just listened silently. Wonwoo had moved, getting himself as close as he could, head tilted towards Mingyu's phone, so he could hear too.

 

The voice on the other side sounded confused, when the message started playing, as if he'd been caught unprepared. Mingyu could hear that uncertain waver in his voice, the one that meant he was feeling nervous and uncertain about something. It made Mingyu's heartache, to still know that about him. The message wasn't very long, it was mostly just him saying that he didn't know why he was calling Mingyu in the first place, that he missed Mingyu. It finished with him apologising, but for what, Mingyu had no idea. For trying to call him in the first place? For the shitty message? For everything that had happened, and the way he'd treated Mingyu?

 

He didn't know, and as the message ran out, taken over now by the automated voice giving Mingyu all his options, the apology didn't matter to him anyway, regardless of what it was for. Mingyu didn't want it. It deteriorated into ashes, before any of it could make its way back into his heart.

 

He hung up the phone, letting his hand drop back into his lap now. Mingyu sat there, and pulled in a couple of deep, shaking breaths. Trying to centre himself again.

 

“Okay,” he said finally, after long, weighted moments of silence. His other hand moved towards Wonwoo, fingers absently scratching at that spot behind one of Wonwoo's large ears that usually made him grumble in appreciation. It was more for Mingyu's own comfort than for Wonwoo's, this time, though Mingyu wasn't aware of it. He wasn't really thinking properly just yet.

 

He pulled in another deep breath, and let it go, slowly. “Okay,” he said again. “So, he's a dick.”

 

Wonwoo, leaning in towards Mingyu's hand, made a sound of quiet agreement.

 

Mingyu sat there, on the doorstep out the back of the restaurant, taking another ten minutes to pull himself together, before he could throw on his usual Mingyu-face, and head back inside to finish helping Chan clean the place up.

 

 

In the middle of the night, Mingyu gave in to the weakness he could feel, hiding within his heart. He found himself picking his phone up, and dialling the number for his voicemail messages. He could just see the expression that would have been on Taejoon's face, to go along with that hitch in his voice. Five years spent with another person, and Mingyu couldn't quite forget all those little details that he'd known. Things that had made his heart swell three times the size, when he'd learnt them all in the first place, because back then it had meant they were growing closer. Getting to know each other.

 

Now all these little details, all the things he knew, all the things that Mingyu had loved about him, were left lingering in his mind, and haunting his heart. He wished it was easier to move on from this, but he'd never had to try before. Taejoon had been his first serious relationship. After Mingyu had spent his teenage years fumbling about awkwardly with other people, trying to figure himself out. At the time, meeting him had made things so much clearer for Mingyu.

 

What he left behind, though, had suddenly made the waters murky and treacherous all over again.

 

The message, as short as it was, soon finished playing. Mingyu hit the _replay_ option.

 

There was a rustling at the bottom of the bed, but Mingyu was so immersed in just listening to the voice coming through his phone that he didn't notice, until Wonwoo had jumped up on Mingyu's chest, and lightly smacked the phone from Mingyu's hand.

 

“Don't do that.” He sounded a little fierce, and when Mingyu looked, he could see how Wonwoo's fur was bristling. “Don't do it to yourself.”

 

Mingyu sighed, hiding his face behind his hands. “I hate this,” he admitted. “I hate feeling like this. This isn't _me._ ”

 

And it wasn't. Mingyu could barely recognise this person sometimes, when he looked at himself in the mirror. How he'd gone from his cheerful, optimistic self to _this_ was something that still puzzled and eluded him. How could another person leave such a change in him, he wondered. As if part of who he'd been had just been scooped out of him, and left this behind, this doubting, sad, mess of a man.

 

“Gyu.” He could feel the roughness of Wonwoo's nose, as it pressed up against his hand. “Mingyu.” More insistently now, as Wonwoo tried to push Mingyu's hands aside.

 

He let his hands drop down to his sides, and looked over at Wonwoo. Mingyu couldn't see him properly in the darkness of his room, but he could feel the concern and the care coming from his spirit.

 

“It's okay. You'll be okay, and we'll be okay. Just give it time, yeah?”

 

Mingyu sniffed. “I wish I could stop thinking about him. You know?”

 

“Yeah, I know,” Wonwoo nodded. “Me too.”

 

He felt as Wonwoo stepped down from his chest, and started to nudge at one of Mingyu's hands again.

 

“Delete the message. You should block him, too. We don't need that in our life anymore.”

 

He picked his phone up, and for the last time this day, dialled the number for his voicemail messages. Mingyu sucked in a long breath, and held it. Instead of listening to the message again, he followed Wonwoo's advice, and deleted it, quickly, before he could second guess himself. Once it was done, and the number had been blocked, Mingyu let out the breath he had been holding. More of himself seemed to leave his body, with that breath.

 

“How are you so smart?” Mingyu asked, after setting his phone down on the bedside table. He turned on his side, facing Wonwoo now, and tried to let his body relax. It was almost like coaxing each of his muscles to unwind and settle. “And how do you always know best?”

 

“I'm the part of _you_ that does,” Wonwoo said, matter of factly. He nudged Mingyu's chin with his nose, before stepping aside. He turned in circles a couple of times, padding the blankets down, before letting himself settle down beside Mingyu's head, staying close. “That's the point, you know.”

 

Wonwoo's tail twitched, and Mingyu huffed. “Your tail tickles.”

 

“Deal with it.”

 

Another huff.

 

Then quietly, a whisper into the darkness, Mingyu said. “Thanks, Wonwoo.”

 

“Go to sleep.”

 

It was Wonwoo's way of saying _'you're welcome.'_ That was, thankfully, the one thing in his life that Mingyu didn't ever doubt, because even when he was an emotional mess, Wonwoo was his constant. The other half of his soul.

 

With those thoughts in his mind, Mingyu eventually, finally, slipped away into sleep.

 

**

 

The problem was, Mingyu's feelings hadn't gone anywhere. He hadn't fallen _out_ of love, and so, despite everything that had happened, how hard the last several months of the relationship had been, it hadn't ended from a lack of love on his part. And those feelings, that love, had nowhere to go. They continued to sit inside Mingyu's heart, a heavy, stagnant burden.

 

He didn't know how he was supposed to get rid of these feelings, either. He'd never stopped loving someone before, not on this scale. Minghao, when Mingyu had asked him one time – in a moment of weakness, and he'd had a few of those over the past couple of months – had assured him that it would just take time. Time and distance, and the weight should eventually, hopefully, begin to ease within him.

 

“I wish time would just move faster, then,” Mingyu said to Wonwoo, after Minghao had left.

 

“You can't force it.”

 

Mingyu glared at Wonwoo, except it didn't last for long. He wasn't really annoyed, at least not at Wonwoo. Maybe a little at himself, and at those nebulous things called _feelings_.

 

“Why are you the smart one?”

 

Wonwoo's tail flicked slowly from side to side, his version of a shrug.

 

“One of us had to get the brains. I'm just lucky, I guess.”

 

Mingyu's glare lasted for longer that time. He was grateful though; moments like that helped lighten the load, even just for a bit.

 

**

 

It was six o'clock on Mingyu's day off, and he was doing the glamorous and exciting past time of vegging out on the couch, snacks in hand, and some ridiculous television show about magic and vampires loaded up and ready to be binged on. Because why not? Which had been his reasoning to Wonwoo, when he'd begged not to be subjected to it too.

 

Mingyu was just starting to really get into it, when his phone rang suddenly, the sharp sound almost making him jump. Wonwoo barely even twitched, from where he'd curled up on the couch.

 

Mingyu looked at the screen, and saw it was Minghao.

 

“Hey,” he greeted, when he picked up.

 

“What are you doing right now?” Minghao didn't waste any time with formalities, which came as no surprise to Mingyu.

 

He looked around himself, at the snacks, the television, and Wonwoo, who had one eye open, watching semi-curiously. Was this a sad Friday night to be having, he wondered suddenly?

 

He could hear Minghao sigh down the phone, a soft exhalation of breath into his ear. “If it takes you that long to answer, I can guess. Okay, get ready, you're coming out with me tonight.”

 

Mingyu blinked, surprised, and frowned to himself. “What? We're not going out!”

 

“Yes we are. Get ready.”

 

“But you hate being around people!”

 

Another sigh. “Yeah, but you like it. So let's go have some fun. Meet me at eight.”

 

There was no room left to argue the point, because Minghao had hung up by the time Mingyu had gotten any semblance of sense put together. He stared down at his phone, before looking across to Wonwoo.

 

“Guess we're going out,” was all Wonwoo said about it.

 

Mingyu met Minghao at eight o'clock on the dot. It didn't take him long to get ready, Mingyu – in his own humble opinion – was already blessed with considerable good looks, and so he didn't need to do much to elevate his usual level of attractiveness. Going out for Minghao and himself meant a bar, so Mingyu had styled his freshly dyed hair up and off of his forehead, in a cool sweep to the side, and that was about it.

 

“I hate you,” Minghao had said, as soon as his eyes landed on Mingyu. They were starting the night off at a bar that they'd frequented a lot in the past. It had been awhile, Mingyu thought, maybe even almost a year, since they'd been there.

 

“Thanks!” Mingyu said, flashing Minghao an easy smile. “You look great too.”

 

Minghao always looked good, honestly, and he knew it, too.

 

“Of course I do. I like the blond hair, by the way. It's different.”

 

“Yeah?” Mingyu asked, clearly looking pleased by the compliment. “I wanted something different.”

 

“It looks good. Now, come on.”

 

They started off easy, a couple of beers each. The bar wasn't particularly busy yet, because it was still fairly early for most people, and the music playing in the background could still be heard. Something from the eighties, Mingyu thought, the emotional wailing burrowing its way quietly into the back of his mind. Taejoon would have known the name of the song.

 

“So,” Mingyu started, after clinking his beer bottle with Minghao's. Wonwoo and Hansol, both sitting next to Mingyu and Minghao's stools, tapped each other on the paw, their own mock cheers. Mingyu could hear Hansol laugh. “How's work been?”

 

Minghao made a face. “No, we're not talking about work tonight.”

 

Mingyu frowned. “Why not?”

 

“I don't want to. Ask me something else.”

 

Mingyu shrugged, and looked thoughtful for a moment. “Okay...well, then. Um... Oh! How's your love life? Are you still seeing that girl?”

 

Minghao shook his head, taking a sip from his beer. “No, not anymore.”

 

“Why not?” It was so much easier talking about other people's failed love lives than his own, he thought.

 

“She moved back to America. It's alright, though, we weren't serious or anything.”

 

Mingyu nodded in understanding. “Sorry, man. Still kind of sucks.”

 

“He's fine,” Hansol said, speaking up suddenly. “He was actually quite happy. I know I was. She snored, and it was loud.”

 

“Hansol!” Minghao said, looking down at him. Hansol only laughed, although Wonwoo was nodding, as if in agreement.

 

“So does Gyu.”

 

“That,” Mingyu said, highly offended, “is only when I'm sick. Everyone does that.”

 

Wonwoo looked at him, unconvinced, because there was no way to fool your spirit, and Mingyu knew that too.

 

He turned his attention back to Minghao, and away from his traitorous spirit. “Well, I hope you didn't bring me out just to be your wing man,” he joked.

 

“Are you kidding? I don't need _help._ ”

 

“That's true,” Mingyu agreed, tilting his bottle towards Minghao, before taking another drink. “You really don't. When you actually meet and talk to people, they always like you.”

 

Hansol's voice perked up again. “Do they?” He looked up at Minghao, as if in surprise.

 

“You be quiet,” Minghao told him. “You don't know anything.”

 

“I know everything,” Hansol said, seriously.

 

They all stared at the small maned wolf in disbelief, before Mingyu and Wonwoo dissolved into laughter. Minghao might have grumbled a little, but it was nice to see Mingyu laughing, so it was half-hearted at best.

 

As the night moved on, so did they. They found themselves sometime later in another bar, where the music was louder, and there were people on the small dance floor. Minghao and Mingyu's drinks became stronger, too. That was how they also found themselves on the dance floor, crowded around on all sides by other semi-drunk, dancing people.

 

There were spaces around the outside of the dance floor for spirits, and Wonwoo and Hansol settled themselves there, out of the way, along with all the others.

 

Music surrounded them. People surrounded them. And Mingyu felt, for the first time in a long time, a little of his old self returning. His head buzzed gently with alcohol, and his spirits were high as he danced alongside Minghao; he felt good, happy. He laughed, joyful, though the sound was quickly swallowed up by the throbbing beats of the bass. Minghao looked bemused, but smiled in return all the same.

 

They let loose, something Mingyu couldn't remember doing for a long time, with Minghao or with anyone else. Worries and doubts faded away; they weren't needed.

 

At one point, their revelry seemed to draw a little attention; either that, or Mingyu's tall, handsome figure, or perhaps a mixture of both. A woman had, quite clearly, singled Mingyu out, and started trying to dance with him. Not something that he minded, but when there was a lull as one song melted into another, she tapped on Mingyu's shoulder, gesturing for him to come closer.

 

Mingyu leant down, until she could speak into his ear. “Hey, do you want to get out of here?” There was a hand on Mingyu's shoulder, as if the question itself wasn't obvious enough. Although there had been times, when Mingyu had been younger, that he'd honestly had _no_ idea what that kind of proposition had meant, and Minghao had had to – whilst laughing the entire time – explain it to him. He was a little the wiser, now.

 

He smiled, and shook his head. “Sorry, you're a great dancer, but you're not my type.”

 

The woman frowned up at Mingyu for a moment, looking on the verge of being offended, before it seemed to click for her. She looked surprised for a moment, before shrugging it off. She turned her attention to Minghao, then. “What about you?” She asked, leaning into his space now as well.

 

Minghao pointed at Mingyu. “Sorry, I'm with my friend tonight.”

 

Another shrug, and she turned aside, melting away between the crowd of dancing people.

 

Minghao and Mingyu shared a look, and started laughing, before the beat of the next song took over.

 

 

Some hours later, and many drinks later, too, the pair found themselves sitting down for some street food, and one last drink. The small tent was empty apart from the two of them, and the walk in the crisp night air had sobered them both a little bit. Nothing that the cups of soju in front of them couldn't soon fix, however.

 

Wonwoo was lying, curled up, on Mingyu's lap, one hand running absently through the soft fur. Mingyu picked at his _tteokbokki_ with his free hand. “You know,” he started, sounding thoughtful. “Things would be so much easier if _we_ could date.”

 

“Aw, Gyu, I'm flattered.” Minghao leaned forward a little, and reached across the table, giving Mingyu's shoulder a friendly pat. “We tried that before, though, remember?” He went on, voice kind. “It didn't work very well.”

 

He did remember, of course he remembered. It had been a long time ago now, before Taejoon, before Mingyu had really known what, and who, he had wanted. They'd both been two confused and inexperienced teenagers, who were much better as friends, and had stayed that way for years now. Still...

 

“Don't worry about it,” Minghao said. Next to him, Hansol was nodding his head, though really he hadn't actually been following the conversation that closely. “You'll date again when you're ready. You'll get there.”

 

Mingyu nodded, offering Minghao a smile. “Thanks.”

 

**

 

“So, what do you want to do for your birthday?”

 

Mingyu didn't even need a moment to think about it. He placed a plate of food in front of Minghao, before setting a plate for himself down. Minghao was lucky that Mingyu didn't mind cooking for him sometimes. But then, Minghao always liked to tell Mingyu that he was lucky to have him as a friend, so Mingyu supposed that made them even. Somehow.

 

“I want to go to karaoke,” he said, sitting down opposite Minghao. His kitchen table was perhaps a little small, but Mingyu had found it, conveniently cheap, at a garage sale when he'd lacked furniture after moving in, and the size of it hadn't really been that important. He liked it. “And I want to go out for a meal,” he added, picking up his chopsticks. “One I don't have to cook!”

 

Minghao laughed, and nodded. “Sure, sure. We can do that. Is Chan coming too?”

 

“He better,” Mingyu said, and at the same time Hansol could be heard saying, “Not likely!” Wonwoo let out a sniggering laugh in agreement.

 

“He'll come,” Minghao assured, after shooting Hansol a look.

 

“You're lucky your birthday falls on a Friday this year,” Minghao said between bites of food. “I wouldn't go out on a school night.”

 

Mingyu gave Minghao a sad face. “Even for me?”

 

“Especially for you.”

 

He clutched at his chest, gasping, leaving a brown stain on his shirt from the chopsticks, forgotten, still held in his hand. “I'm wounded! You hurt me, Hao.”

 

Laughing, Minghao shook his head. He reached out for a napkin, and held it out to Mingyu in offering. “You idiot.”

 

Mingyu looked from the napkin, down at himself, rolling his eyes when he noticed the food staining his shirt now. “Thanks,” he said, taking the napkin, trying to wipe what he could away.

 

“How many shirts have you ruined now this week?” Wonwoo could be heard saying, from where he was curled up comfortably on the floor, near Hansol.

 

“You be quiet,” Mingyu grumbled. “It's not ruined.”

 

There was a snort in response – two, Mingyu thought he heard, and he eyed Wonwoo and Hansol suspiciously, before returning his attention to his food again. And Minghao, because he was nice like that, despite all these affronts to his person.

 

“You must be happy though.” Mingyu spoke up, after enjoying his food for a minutes. “You finally get to do what _you_ actually want to, not what your parents wanted you to do.”

 

Minghao nodded. He took a sip of water, before replying. “A few years later than everyone else, but yeah. I'm excited.”

 

Mingyu was grinning now, and this was just how they were. They could go from name-calling and making fun of each other, to Mingyu feeling so proud for his best friend. It was their natural cycle of friendship, and had been like that since they'd met each other, at fifteen years old.

 

“And graduating soon! I'm so proud of you, Hao.”

 

“Shut up,” Minghao said, looking down at his plate instead of meeting Mingyu's eyes. But the small smile on his face hinted that he was pleased, really.

 

“Never,” Mingyu said, grinning. “Are you going to start looking for a teaching position soon?”

 

“He's already found it!” Hansol spoke up, and even after all these years, he still took Mingyu by surprise at times, giving off the impression that he never listened to anything, but would then jump into a conversation at the strangest of times. “Didn't you, Hao?”

 

“Yeah,” Minghao agreed. “I'm starting at a school in August.”

 

Mingyu's grin widened, if that was even possible. Wonwoo might be the one between them with the actual tail, but if Mingyu had had one, it would have been wagging furiously just then. He almost unsettled the table, with his sudden rush of excited energy. “That's so great! I'm happy for you.”

 

“Shut up,” Minghao said again, and Mingyu caught the tell tale flush of red, spreading across Minghao's cheeks.

 

“Careful,” Wonwoo warned, catching sight of the slight wobble of the table.

 

Mingyu let them both enjoy a little more of their dinner, before he started talking again. “It's great news, though. I really _am_ happy for you. We'll have to celebrate.”

 

“Let's wait until I graduate,” Minghao said. “It feels like tempting fate a little, otherwise.”

 

Mingyu nodded, before popping another piece of meat into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. It was good, he thought, that Minghao had finally been given the chance to start living for himself, and make his own decisions, and stopped having to bow under pressure from his parents.

 

“I could never picture you in a business suit, though.”

 

Hansol snorted at that. And only laughed louder a moment later, when Minghao glared at him.

 

“I'd look amazing in a suit. I look great in everything.”

 

“It's true,” Wonwoo agreed. “You, on the other hand...”

 

“Me what?” Mingyu challenged, turning to look over at Wonwoo, and somehow, though no one had actually seen _how_ , resulted in knocking his cup of water off the table, spilling the contents across the floor. “Oh, shit.”

 

Between his shirt and the floor now, Mingyu was on a roll tonight, it seemed.

 

“You're so lucky this room isn't carpeted,” Minghao all but cackled, amused.

 

“He's lucky to be alive at all, sometimes,” Wonwoo chimed in.

 

“How,” Mingyu started, looking between them both, “did we get from planning my _birthday_ , to this?”

 

Still laughing, Minghao held up his hands. “Okay, okay. Sorry. Food and karaoke. It's a plan.”

 

The rest of their dinner continued in a similar vein, and mostly at Mingyu's expense. He couldn't say he minded, though, it felt good, to be laughing and smiling, and making plans like this.

 

He felt good.

 

**

 

 

“Happy Birthday, honey!”

 

Mingyu didn't try to hold back a groan as his mother began to sing to him down the phone. Wonwoo was looking up at him, laughing softly. “Mum, please,” Mingyu said, sounding pained. “Do you have to?”

 

He was looking around for something in the living room, his phone held to his ear in one hand, the other searching and picking things up.

 

“Yes, I have to,” his mother answered matter-of-factly. “It's my right as your mother.”

 

He started pulling up one of the cushions of the couch, as Wonwoo watched on, unhelpful but amused. “You know I'm twenty-six now.” No such luck, he thought, carefully putting the cushion back.

 

“Doesn't matter how old you are,” his mother continued, sounding cheerful. “You'll always be my baby Mingu.”

 

Mingyu made a face at hearing his childhood nickname spoken to him again. “Can you not?”

 

His mother laughed, and the sound was full and rich, her joy obvious. “How are you doing? Do you have any plans today?”

 

Mingyu stood in the middle of the living room, looking around himself helplessly. Trying to have a conversation with his mother and simultaneously find his keys was proving difficult, and Wonwoo was just standing back, watching it all.

 

“I'm good, Mum,” Mingyu said, trying to focus on the one thing, at least. “I'm working this afternoon, then I'm going out for dinner and karaoke.”

 

Wonwoo had placed himself beside the coffee table, and watched almost serenely, his tail flicking lazily from side to side. Mingyu gave him a questioning look.

 

“Oh, dinner?” There was that tone in his mother's voice, the one that made Mingyu cringe a little inwardly. “Who are you going with? Anyone new?”

 

“Minghao and Chan. Same as always.”

 

He could hear his mother sigh through the phone at him, and it was so easy to picture the look on her face to go with it. “You know,” she started, still in that same tone, “there's this really nice young man I know, do you-”

 

Mingyu had to stop her there. “Mum, I'm sure he's great but...”

 

She filled in the rest for him, and now her voice went back to the usual warm, affectionate tones that he was used to. “You're not ready yet, I get it. Worth a try.”

 

It pulled a laugh from Mingyu, and he could hear his mother chuckle in response. “Thanks for thinking of me.”

 

“All the time. We're still seeing you on Sunday, right?”

 

Mingyu nodded, then remembered that the phone was an audio thing and not visual. “Yes! Definitely.”

 

There was a smile in her voice, when she spoke again. “Okay, can't wait to see you. Have a great birthday! I love you, honey.”

 

Mingyu made a face, but found himself smiling all the same. “Thanks, Mum. Love you too.”

 

It wasn't until he hung up and looked at his phone screen that Mingyu saw he was just on the verge of running late. “Crap!” He almost dropped his phone then, in his panic. “Wonwoo, do you remember where I put my keys?”

 

Wonwoo was still sitting beside the coffee table, looking as calm as he usually did. His tail was still swaying slowly, almost hypnotically, Mingyu thought.

 

“Nope.”

 

Mingyu stared. “Wait a minute...” He took a few steps closer to Wonwoo, and let out a loud shout a moment later. “Ah! Wonwoo! How could you?” He stooped down, grabbing the keys that were sitting on the floor, right beneath the constant flutter of Wonwoo's fluffy tail.

 

“Oh, were they there? I didn't see them!”

 

Mingyu shot him a look, as he straightened back up. “Happy Birthday to you, too,” he grumbled.

 

Wonwoo stood up, coming over towards Mingyu, until he could wind himself around Mingyu's legs, a brief, affectionate little passing. “Happy Birthday to us.”

 

Mingyu huffed, before offering his spirit a smile.

 

Then Wonwoo shattered it again with the reminder of reality. “Aren't you running late?”

 

“Crap!”

Having a birthday get together just consisting of himself, Minghao and Chan – and of course, by extension, each of their spirits – might have seemed like a small amount to some people, but Mingyu was happy that day, with them. He might have had more friends once, but then, as Minghao had pointed out at the time, if they'd been childish enough to have to pick sides after the break-up, they hadn't really been Mingyu's friends in the first place.

 

But Chan and Minghao – him especially – had always been apart from Mingyu's relationship, separate, and his own.

 

Dinner was loud...well, Mingyu was loud, and Chan joined in with that, while Minghao mostly just laughed at them and rolled his eyes. But dinner was good, especially since it was one Mingyu didn't have to cook, which was really the entire point. And then a few drinks to lead them into an even louder round of karaoke, and here, Mingyu and Chan, with Jeonghan and Hansol's coaxing, managed to get Minghao singing and dancing along with them, almost as loudly.

 

And even if Mingyu had dropped one of the microphones and almost broken it, so what? He was with the people he cared about the most, it was his birthday, and he'd had a really, really good day. The best he'd had in a long time, he thought, by the time he and Wonwoo finally crawled home and into bed that night. Emotionally, as well. He couldn't really remember the last time he'd felt so...okay, and because he felt so good, he wasn't actually trying to think back on it anyway. He just _was_.

 

“Maybe twenty-six isn't so bad,” he murmured sleepily to Wonwoo.

 

“It better not be,” Wonwoo mumbled. “You can't exactly go back now.”

 

No, Mingyu couldn't go back, not in any sense of the word. And tonight, that thought sat within him well, warm and comforting.

 


	3. Interlude

_Mingyu had his speech all planned. It was important, and he wanted to say this right, to make sure he got his point across properly, to make sure that his mother really understood. And yet, as he looked at her, sitting patiently with a fond look on her face, waiting for him, all those planned words went out of the window, scattered in the breeze. Only a few were left, floating slowly around him; he caught an 'i'm sorry' here, and saw a 'please' fluttering around over there._

 

_So instead of the nicely planned speech – with Wonwoo's help, of course – when Mingyu finally opened his mouth to speak, he had to force new, unplanned words, out from behind the lump that sat in his throat. It came out a sudden, breathless mess._

 

_“Mum, I think I'm gay. I mean, I know I am. I'm sorry.”_

 

_He could feel his face heat up at the mess he'd just made of it, and, too scared to see his mother's reaction, Mingyu hid his face behind his hands. He didn't want to see that look of fondness and love that he'd grown up with change into something else._

 

_He felt Wonwoo, trying to make himself as small as possible, cowering beside him on the couch._

 

_There was, what felt like, a long moment of silence that was almost the end of Mingyu, but it was only a few scant seconds in reality. And then his mother was talking, her voice laced with care and affection. “Oh, honey. I wondered when you would tell me.”_

 

_The words, and the reaction, took Mingyu by surprise, enough for him to pry his hands away from his face, and actually meet his mother's eyes. She looked at him the same way that she always had, and that was enough to begin to ease the panicked pounding of his heart. Mingyu had been struggling with this for years, and as much as he knew his mother loved him, there had still been those doubts preying at the back of his mind, the what if's, and the maybe's._

 

_With a smile and those few words, she'd seemed to wave those all away._

 

_He stared at her, surprised. “You knew?” He'd barely even known himself, properly, until only recently. So how his mother had figured it out was beyond him, just then._

 

_She looked thoughtful for a moment, before answering. “I knew something was going on with you, and I had my suspicions.”_

 

_Later, they would joke about the lack of actual, serious girlfriends that Mingyu had had growing up playing a part in that. But for now, he still couldn't quite hide his surprise._

 

_His mother's spirit, a border collie, padded over towards the couch where Mingyu sat, and rested her head on the cushions, nose brushing against Wonwoo's fur. Offering comfort, mirroring their counterparts in that moment._

 

_“And you don't...it's okay? You don't hate me?”_

 

_It was this that moved Mingyu's mother to stand, and now she walked over towards him. Leaning down, she enveloped Mingyu in a hug, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, and holding him close. It was how she'd always hugged him when he'd needed, or wanted, comfort. It was a bit different now, as a twenty year old man that all but towered over her when they were standing, but it still held all the warmth and the security that a hug from his mother had always held within it._

 

_He let out a soft breath, hugging her back. Beside them, Wonwoo had moved to curl up beside Mingyu's mother's spirit._

 

_“You're my son, and I'll always love you. Nothing you are, or could be, will ever disappoint me or make me love you any less. I'm just glad you finally found yourself.”_

 

_Mingyu was trying, somewhat in vain, not to get teary just then. But it was difficult, when years of struggle and confusion and doubt, culminated in this._

 

_“Thanks, Mum.”_

 

_It was all the words that Mingyu could find, in that moment, but with the way his mother tightened her hold around him, Mingyu knew that she could hear all the words he couldn't say._

 


	4. Middle

July simmered its way into the year, and not for the first time that summer, Mingyu found himself wondering why on earth he'd thought that working in a kitchen was a good idea.

 

A few things were different for him, now. His hair had gone from blond (Minghao had loved it) to blue (his mother had hated it) and was now a more natural, warm, shade of brown (he loved it). And six months ago, he'd been wallowing around his home, saying things to Wonwoo like: _'Am I really better off without him in my life? Is this what I want?'_ to...well, to right now. Which was Chan, also in the unbearably hot kitchen, stealing all the cool fan-air from Mingyu.

 

“I'll set you up on this dating app,” Chan said easily, just like that.

 

“What?” Mingyu frowned. “Why would you do that?”

 

Chan leant back against the counter, completely blocking the fan now. “Because it's been over six months now, don't you want to try dating again?”

 

Mingyu looked down at Wonwoo, who had taken to lying spread out across as much of the slightly cool floor as possible. Wonwoo blinked impassively back at him; they hadn't really broached the subject yet. He turned to look back at Chan, shrugging his shoulders. “I haven't really given it much thought. I'm okay being single.” He saw the unconvinced look on Chan's face, and tried a different tack. “I mean! It's great being single. You can...flirt? And play the field? And just have fun!”

 

Well, he’d tried.

 

Chan burst out laughing, and Jeonghan – slowly inching his way in front of the fan – joined in. “Alright, I know I've only known you since you were dating that jerk-”

 

“Thanks.”

 

“-But even I know that you've never done any of that before.”

 

Mingyu tried to look offended. No one was convinced. He felt one of Wonwoo's paws smack his ankle.

 

“I could flirt and date around if I wanted to.”

 

He felt the trap close around him just as he finished speaking, and he wanted to hit himself. The heat was doing things to him, making it hard to think, he was sure.

 

“Ha! Let me set you up then. What can it hurt?”

 

A thought struck Mingyu, and he frowned at Chan, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Why do you care so much all of a sudden?”

 

“I made a bet with Minghao that I could get you on that dating app.”

 

At that, Wonwoo let out a loud laugh, enough to startle the sleepy-looking Jeonghan, who had managed to quietly steal more of the fans cool air.

 

Mingyu just glared at him.

 

“And I'm bored. Come on. It'll be fine. It's easy.”

 

“Nope. I'm definitely not, ever, putting my love life in your hands, you traitor.”

 

He turned from Chan, and took three quick strides over towards the stove. He really didn't want to be this close to a source of heat, but he also had to check that the soup of the day, for dinner service later, was coming along nicely. It was hot, was Mingyu's immediate, professional, opinion.

 

“Hey,” Chan said, his voice suddenly coming from closer behind Mingyu. “Can I see your phone for a moment?”

 

“Oh, sure,” Mingyu said without thinking, pulling his phone out of his pocket. It wasn't until he'd turned around and handed it to Chan that the realisation struck him, but before he could get it back, Chan had already put one of the counters between them. “You're evil.”

 

“I'm trying to help you,” Chan assured him, but Mingyu was not convinced. Evil was laced through everything that Chan said and did.

 

Jeonghan had joined Chan now, and was looking down at Mingyu's phone with him.

 

Mingyu looked helplessly from them, to Wonwoo.

 

“Nevermind,” Wonwoo said. “You can just delete it later. No big deal.”

 

Sure, it wasn't really a big deal, and Mingyu knew that nothing would actually come from some silly dating app. But it was the prospect of it, sudden and unexpected, that was giving him pause for thought. He'd come a long way, emotionally, in the past seven months, he knew. There were hardly ever any angst-ridden, sleepless nights now, spent not-crying to Wonwoo about what had happened, or how much he missed his ex. And Mingyu thought, that now, perhaps, his feelings and the love itself had actually faded. He hadn't really tested this, so he couldn't be sure, but he thought so anyway, or he hoped, at the least.

 

But he hadn't really considered dating again. He certainly hadn't met anyone that made him feel like he wanted to, yet. There was something daunting and scary about the idea.

This, though, was a silly little dating app on his phone that he could ignore or delete as he chose. It didn't mean anything. He could deal with that, he thought.

 

“Wow,” Chan said, pulling Mingyu's attention back to the moment at hand. “How many selfies do you take?”

 

“I take one every time I look really good,” Mingyu answered, stung. “Which is almost all the time. Why?”

 

“I'm setting your profile up now.”

 

“Ooh, use that one,” Jeonghan spoke up, tapping his paw at the phone's screen. “He looks thoughtful and almost intelligent there.”

 

“Hey!” Mingyu looked down at Wonwoo. “Are you hearing this? Go protect my honour.”

 

Wonwoo shook himself a little, before settling back down again. “No.”

 

After a few more moments, Chan came back around the counter towards Mingyu, offering the phone back to him. “Here, it's all done for you. You just have to find yourself some matches now.”

 

Mingyu stared down at the screen, and he had to admit, it _was_ a good picture of him to use, although all pictures of his face were good, he thought. Then he saw the short description Chan had filled in for him on his profile, and the desire to murder was boiling within him again. “ _'I'm tall and handsome, what more do you want?'_ Chan, what?”

 

“It's true though!”

 

When Mingyu looked up, it was to find Chan by the kitchen door, and he wondered then how he'd gotten over there so fast. “Oh, look at the time. I've gotta make sure the dining room is clean before dinner starts! Bye!” And Chan, with Jeonghan behind him, was gone, the kitchen door _swish_ ing shut behind them both.

 

Mingyu sighed. His phone buzzed in his hand, enough to startle him to the point of almost dropping it on the floor.

 

“Oh, someone's already messaging me?” Mingyu said, staring down at the screen. “He says I'm hot. Do I want to... oh, my god.”

 

Mingyu's face went bright red, and felt hotter than the actual sticky heat in the air around him. Wonwoo, the dirty cheat, had placed himself in front of the small fan now.

 

“What?” He asked.

 

Mingyu shoved his phone deep inside his pocket, forcefully trying to forget about it. “It's unrepeatable.” And unthinkable, he thought.  


**  


“What is wrong with some people?”

 

“Hm?”

 

Mingyu leaned across Minghao's couch, offering his friend his phone to look at.

 

Minghao took it, and Hansol, curled up between Minghao and the arm of the couch, head resting in his lap, looked on curiously, as well. After a moment of silent reading, Minghao made a face, handing Mingyu his phone back quickly. He almost made to wipe his hands, as if the message (and the rather filthy message, at that) had left an unsanitary residue behind.  
  
“Why the hell are you still using that, anyway?” He asked, shaking his head a little. “You're never going to find a real date with that.”

 

Mingyu shrugged, quickly closing out of the unpleasant message. He'd been surprised, in all honesty, at some of the responses he'd gotten since Chan had put his profile on there for him. Most of them had been innocuous, awkward _'hi_ 's, or bad icebreakers and pick up lines. A couple had started off potentially promising, only to devolve quite quickly into things that Mingyu didn't even want to think about, when he knew what they meant, any way. One guy had left such a long, involved message about...well, innuendo involving handy work and hardware and tools, essentially, and Wonwoo's very helpful reply – between laughing so hard he struggled to breathe – had been to tell the guy he'd have to D.I.Y the situation himself.

 

“I'm not trying to find a date,” he answered. He closed down the app, and slipped his phone away. “I just haven't deleted it yet.” Minghao gave him a look. “Okay, well also, there's one guy I've been talking to, but!” Mingyu added quickly, seeing the sudden look of interest Minghao was giving him, “it's not like that or anything. We're not interested in dating each other. We've just been talking, about painting and stuff...” He looked away then, almost a bit embarrassed. “It's been nice.”

 

“Are you sure you two aren't cut out for dating?”

 

“Oh, yeah,” Mingyu said, nodding vigorously. “There's nothing there. Besides,” he added, shifting a little in his spot. “I still don't think I'm ready to date yet.”

 

“Fair enough.” Minghao offered Mingyu a small smile, before turning back towards the television. Neither of them were watching it closely, but it was background noise. Hansol was the only one of them actually watching whatever was on. “Just promise me one thing?”

 

Mingyu looked over, eyebrows raised curiously at Minghao. “What?”

 

“When you are ready, just give it some time.”

 

Mingyu stared at Minghao a moment, taken by surprise. Not by the sincerity, or the advice – not really, because Minghao was always doing that, despite the ease and the joking that could take place in their friendship, Minghao was always honest, and sincere in the moments where it mattered. But because the thought hadn't even occurred to Mingyu. He'd been expecting a joke about dating apps and creeps.

 

“Don't get all sentimental on me now,” Minghao almost groaned, seeing the look on Mingyu's face, but he let out a soft laugh all the same. “I mean it, though. Also let me know, so I can be ready to come save you.”

 

“Make sure they're cute, too,” Hansol spoke up, offering his own – helpful? – advice.

 

“Alright,” Mingyu agreed, laughing.

 

**  


One promise Mingyu didn't uphold, when he did finally decide to go on a date with someone: he didn't tell Minghao. He wasn't sure why, because they'd never really kept anything from each other before, but part of Mingyu felt, well... embarrassed, maybe. He couldn't quite pin down his emotions, and he'd never exactly been the best at stopping to examine his feelings in the first place.

 

He supposed, maybe, that dating was something that many people did, and quite easily at that too, so why shouldn't he? He didn't want to make a big deal out of it, and telling anyone other than Wonwoo, who obviously knew, felt a little like making it into a big deal.

 

It was small, and it was simple, and Mingyu didn't want to make it into more than it was. He didn't even think anything would come of it, really, but the guy looked cute in his profile picture, and he'd been pretty charming in his messages, and somehow Mingyu had found himself agreeing to a date he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to go on.

 

He had spent much, much longer on his appearance than he would usually, and the longer he spent assessing himself, the more doubts crept their way through the partially open door. He huffed in frustration, dropping his comb into the sink.

 

“What is wrong with me?”

 

Wonwoo curled himself around Mingyu's legs. “Nothing's wrong with you.”

 

Mingyu leant over the sink, pulling in a few, heavy breaths of air. “It feels weird. _I_ feel weird. This isn't like me.”

 

“It's okay. I mean,” Wonwoo started, staring up at Mingyu, “it has been years since you last went on a first date. This is normal, I'm sure.”

 

He let out a long sigh, before picking the comb up again. He brushed it through his hair a couple of times, before he was vaguely satisfied with himself. “This kind of thing never used to bother me before.”

 

“Yeah, but you were in college then. And there were other things to bother you, remember?” Good old Wonwoo, ever the voice of reason, Mingyu thought. “There's nothing wrong with being more cautious.”

 

“What do you mean?” Mingyu asked, finally stepping back from the bathroom mirror. He sent a look down at Wonwoo.

 

“You know. It's good, to be a bit less reckless than you usually are. You usually rush into things head first, think about them later. Taking your time and being cautious isn't a bad thing.”

 

Mingyu was thoughtful for a moment, before shaking his head. “It's weird.”

 

“The first new date is always going to be a bit weird, I imagine.”

 

“You're probably right,” Mingyu agreed. He moved from the small bathroom, switching off the light behind him, and went back into his bedroom. He pulled a jacket out of the wardrobe, holding it up in front of himself for Wonwoo's approval. At a satisfied nod, Mingyu slipped it on over top the nice, freshly pressed dress shirt he was wearing. He'd spared no effort in ensuring he looked – and smelled – good tonight. Even if it was a date he didn't have any expectations of, he liked to make sure he looked his best.

 

It felt almost as if he had something to prove, but whether it was to himself, to his ex, or to the world, he wasn't sure. There was a strange weight, heavy but nebulous, hovering above him.

 

Despite his worrying and dithering, Mingyu made it to the restaurant that he and Jinsoo – his date tonight – had agreed on, in plenty of time. Dinner, Mingyu had thought, was a good, safe first date; there was room to talk, there was a subject to talk about in front of them if all else failed, and there were only a few hours of commitment if things weren't going well. It was weird, though, for Mingyu to find himself thinking like that. He'd never really worried about it in the past. It was hard still, to get his head around how he'd been changed. Part of him hoped that, maybe, if he was going to start dating again, he'd be able to find his way back to who he used to be; comfortable and ready to face things head on.

 

When Jinsoo arrived, Mingyu let out a soft breath; he looked just as cute in reality as he had in his profile picture. There was one less thing to worry about, at least.

 

Mingyu soon had to revoke that thought, because once they'd sat down at their table and gotten over the whole 'you look better than your photos' compliments, Mingyu found he had even more to worry about. It had been so long since he'd had a first date, and he'd forgotten entirely how they were supposed to work. What was he meant to do, and say? How was he supposed to act? What could they talk about?

 

He was going to mess this up. Even with Wonwoo's usually steady presence – currently wrapped loosely around Mingyu's ankle, beneath the table – Mingyu found himself beginning to panic. For the past five years of his life, he'd either been in a comfortable, steady, long-term relationship, or single.

 

They hadn't even ordered their food yet, and Mingyu was already feeling like this was a terrible venture. He had no idea what to talk about, and in that moment he found himself opening his mouth, about to comment on the weather, when he knew that all was lost.

 

Instead of the weather, he found himself saying, “I'll be right back, bathroom.” He offered Jinsoo an awkward smile, before rushing away, Wonwoo running behind to keep up.

 

He closed the bathroom door behind him, and was thankful to find it empty in that moment. Without even thinking, he pulled his phone out, and he was already dialling Minghao's number before his brain had caught up with him.

 

“Help,” he said, as soon as Minghao answered.

 

“Oh, hello, nice to hear from you too,” came Minghao's dry response.

 

“Hi. I'm sorry, but help me.”

 

Something in Mingyu's tone must have alerted Minghao that something was up, because his voice changed when he spoke next, sounding more serious.

 

“What's wrong?”

 

“I'm on a date,” Mingyu said, not caring now about telling Minghao. “And it's going terribly. We've only been sitting down for ten minutes, and I don't know what I'm doing.”

 

“Calm down,” Minghao started, speaking evenly himself, keeping his tone steady. “It's not as big a deal as you think it is. Take a deep breath, okay.”

 

Mingyu did as he was told, and took a couple more, just for his sanity's sake.

 

“Good. Now, stop thinking about it as a date. That doesn't mean anything. You're just hanging out with someone new.”

 

“But I don't know what to do, or what to talk about! It's weird.”

 

He could feel Wonwoo, pressed up against his leg, looking up and watching quietly; he knew Wonwoo could hear what Minghao was saying to him.

 

“Yes you do. You're good at talking to people, you always have something to say. It's not a date, and it doesn't have to go anywhere. You must have had things you two talked about before, to even decide you wanted to go out, right?”

 

Part of Mingyu was so grateful to Minghao, for trying to help him here, even when Mingyu hadn't told him a thing about this date, or about Jinsoo in particular.

 

“Well, yeah,” he admitted. “We've been talking for a little while now.”

 

“Is this the art guy?”

 

“No, no. This guy, we bonded over food, I guess.”

 

Minghao laughed at that. “Sounds about right. Look, Gyu,” he added, sounding more serious again, but still kind. “You'll be fine. Stop overthinking it. The point of a first date is to see if there's potential to go anywhere. If there's not, it's okay. Try to relax and just think of it as hanging out with someone, yeah?”

 

Wonwoo raised his voice then, so that Minghao could hear him through the phone. “That's what I keep telling him!”

 

Minghao laughed again. “Listen to Wonwoo,” he agreed. “Have fun, and let me know how it goes. If you really need me to come save you though, just call me. I'll make up a fake emergency for you.”

 

“Thanks, Hao,” Mingyu said, feeling grateful. “I think I'll be okay now.”

 

“Of course you will,” Minghao agreed easily. “Remember what you always used to say? You're perfect, handsome, Mingyu! You can do it.”

 

When they disconnected the call, Mingyu felt an easing of his worries. He kept replaying Minghao's words through his mind, as he made his way back to the table. He'd forgotten, but he had used to say that a lot, especially before meeting Taejoon. Perfect, handsome, Mingyu, who could do it all. He needed – he _wanted_ – that level of confidence and ease back.

 

He'd make sure he got it back, he thought to himself. Even if it took him a little bit longer to find it again.

 

“Hey,” Mingyu said, smiling at Jinsoo, as he sat back down. “Have you decided what you want to eat?”

 

They could talk about food at least, easily enough.

 

It only took twenty minutes for Mingyu to realise that food was...all they had in common.

 

“So, what is it that you actually do? I don't think you ever said?”

 

“I'm an accountant,” Jinsoo answered. Jinsoo's spirit, a small, moon-toothed degu, was sat inside the pocket of Jinsoo’s shirt, and every now and then Mingyu could see his little nose peeking out, looking around.

 

“Oh,” Mingyu said, trying to sound genuine as he responded. “That's really interesting!”

 

There was a quiet cough from Wonwoo, beneath the table.

 

“You wouldn't believe it, actually!”

 

Throughout their starter, and all of their main course, Jinsoo regaled Mingyu with completely interesting and definitely exciting stories about life as an accountant. He attempted, a couple of times, to divert the conversation towards something else, but Jinsoo ploughed on regardless, clearly enjoying talking about himself, and his life, and his work. And whilst he might have looked a little cute, it was also, unfortunately, incredibly boring to actually listen to. Even cuteness couldn't make Jinsoo's accountantcy stories exciting for Mingyu.

 

“You don't say?” Mingyu said, the only words he'd been able to properly utter, since their main course had arrived. He didn't even know what Jinsoo had actually said, and he felt a little bad but...it was just so dull to listen to. Every now and then he could feel Wonwoo, body shaking with silent laughter, brushing against his ankle.

 

Even though Mingyu always got dessert, after the table was cleaned of their plates, he was truly considering ending the date now.

 

“So, what do you want for dessert?” Jinsoo asked pleasantly, picking up the menu. “Do you want to split something?”

 

Mingyu sighed internally, and made himself smile over at Jinsoo. “Sure, you pick. I like it all.”

 

Through dessert, though the accountancy tales seemed to have ended – thank goodness – Mingyu learned that there really wasn't anything else of interest about Jinsoo. It was a shame; he was cute, and he was nice, but if Mingyu couldn't hold a conversation with someone for even an hour, he knew there was no hope to be had.

 

He was okay with that.

 

Once they parted ways – after Jinsoo had said, genuinely, that he'd had a nice time, and Mingyu had said less genuinely that he had too – he immediately called Minghao, to go over it all, as he made his way home.

 

“You made it through then,” Minghao said, when he answered. “How did it go?”

 

“Terribly!” Mingyu said immediately. “He was cute, but my god, Hao, he was so boring.”

 

Minghao laughed down the phone, amused. “Well as far as first dates go, that's really not as bad as it could have been.”

 

“Oh, I know – shit,” Mingyu interrupted himself as he tripped on the pavement, before quickly regaining his balance, and his train of thought. “It was just so boring listening to him talk. I felt awful, cause he was a nice guy.”

 

He and Wonwoo stopped at the lights, though there wasn't much traffic down this street at this time in the evening, and walked across when the lights changed. The air was hot and thick around them, and Mingyu was regretting walking home now, even though he didn't live that far.

 

“You can't click with everyone,” were the words Minghao offered.

 

“Yeah, I guess you're right.”

 

“Of course I am.” He paused, before adding, “You did it, though. You got the first date over with, it should start to get easier now.”

 

Mingyu laughed. “Maybe! I'm not sure how many more dates I'll go on, though.”

 

“Whatever you want,” Minghao agreed.

 

For the rest of his twenty minute walk home, Mingyu regaled Minghao with more details of the date itself, and it definitely helped him feel better about it all, being able to laugh and share the experience with his best friend.  


**  


Mingyu's next date didn't go any better, either, and he was beginning to wonder if maybe he just couldn't date. Perhaps it wasn't for him.

 

“I mean,” he said to Wonwoo, half leaning across the small table he was sitting at, “I guess it's not something I was really good at before?”

 

Wonwoo watched on quietly, as Mingyu blinked thoughtfully at his half drunk bottle of soju, before pouring himself another glass. He downed it in one, before his mouth seemed to catch up with his thoughts again.

 

“I couldn't figure out for ages what gender I even wanted to be with! And then I met him and I didn't need to worry about dating anymore.”

 

The latest date had been the cause of his own downfall, though, and it said nothing about Mingyu and his actual ability, but maybe just a little bit about his luck. Within the first five minutes of meeting, the guy had proved himself to be a bit of a dick, and a creep on top of it. He'd said something to Mingyu, in what the guy clearly had thought to be a conspiratorial way, that it was a shame for the female population that he was gay, because he had a great dick and none of them would ever get to experience it.

 

Mingyu hadn't been able to hide his distaste, and hadn't even bothered to try, in all honesty. He'd booked it out of there when the guy had tried to ask Mingyu about his...preferences, something he definitely didn't want to talk about within minutes of meeting someone for the first time. That had been enough for Mingyu to know there was nothing worth it in that direction, and he'd made sure to block the guy from ever talking to him again, too.

 

“Here, eat some food,” Wonwoo suggested, pushing the plate of skewered chicken towards Mingyu with his paw. “You didn't even get to dinner this time, you need to eat.”

 

Mingyu took a skewer, and began eating. “I mean it, though,” he started again, still chewing as he spoke. “I don't remember dating being this hard, but I guess it must have been? I'm so bad at it.” He waved his hand, gesturing as he spoke, skewer still in hand, a bit of meat spilling off of it.

 

“Gross. Mingyu, please.”

 

“Sorry,” Mingyu said, though he had no idea himself what he was actually apologising for. “I just- oh, shit!” He'd elbowed one of the empty bottles of soju off of the table, and it clattered to the ground, though luckily it didn't smash. “Sorry, sorry,” he said, both to Wonwoo, and to the owner of the stall when they turned to eye their noisy patron. He reached down, picked the bottle up, and placed it back on the table. “Oops.”

 

“It's just the people you're meeting,” Wonwoo said, the only one of them really still following any thread in this conversation. “It's nothing to do with you. Just find better people.”

 

“Better people!” Mingyu's voice rose a little too loud then, as he laughed. “Sure, sure. I'll try that, thanks.”

 

Halfway through his drunken ramblings, Chan showed up to help him home.

 

“Oh, hi! How did you know I was here? Have a drink with me!” Mingyu said, smiling when he saw his friend.

 

Chan looked less pleased to see Mingyu. He did look a little amused though, as did Jeonghan beside him, as they viewed their silly, drunken friend. “You text me and told me you were here. And, I think you've had enough.” He plucked the bottle from Mingyu's hand, and Mingyu pouted sadly at this new development.

 

Eventually, Chan managed to get Mingyu up and out of the tent, and over towards the nearest bus stop.

 

“It's not even that late,” Chan mumbled to himself, as he lead Mingyu onto the bus when it arrived.

 

“Thanks, Channie,” Mingyu cooed, when, twenty minutes later, Chan managed to navigate Mingyu into his home. “You're the best.”

 

“I know I am. You owe me for this, yeah? I had better things to do tonight.”

 

“I'll make it up to you!”

 

Chan assured Mingyu that yes, he would make it up to him, before he left Mingyu and Wonwoo both sleeping safely in bed.

 

When Mingyu woke up the next morning, groggy and heavy-headed, it was to a slightly more positive attitude about the entire thing. He could only laugh about the rubbish dates now; it seemed somewhere in his alcohol-fuzzed dreams, he'd reached the conclusion that it was better to laugh about these things and take them as they came, than to get sad and drunk about them. Also, feeling like this the next day sucked.

 

**  


“Let's go to Busan tomorrow.”

 

Wonwoo looked up at Mingyu, surprised. “What?”

 

Mingyu, sitting on the couch, phone in hand, shot a glance over at Wonwoo. “I want to get out of the city for the day! Do something different, you know?” he shrugged a shoulder; it was all the explanation he had. “So why not.”

 

“Okay.” Wonwoo wasn't going to say anything, but the thought did go through his mind that this was more like Mingyu, just deciding something on a whim, not really thinking about it.

 

Mingyu's own thoughts hadn't gone that far, though. He had the day off work tomorrow, and he'd been feeling a little itchy and restless, going somewhere different seemed like a fun idea. And, maybe, it was Mingyu trying to find the pieces of who he used to be. Not that he was aware of it; if that were the case, it was deeper within him, outside of his conscious thoughts.

 

“Better make sure to wake up on time,” Wonwoo added after a moment, tone teasing now. “Or you're not getting very far tomorrow.”

 

“Ha, ha. I can get up early.”

 

Mingyu was true to his word, too, one of the rare occasions where he could – and did – manage to wake up early and on time. Nothing wrong with a guy liking his sleep, he always said in his defense, but he was excited today. He couldn't remember the last time he'd actually left the city, and done something fun. Going home to see his family didn't count, because they were only thirty minutes away.

 

Twenty minutes into the train journey to Busan, and Mingyu was already fidgeting in his seat. He turned to Wonwoo. “I'm bored,” he whined.

 

Wonwoo made a sound close to a snort, an accurate representation of his unsurprised amusement. “You're in trouble, you have another two and a half hours to go still.”

 

Mingyu pouted, until Wonwoo batted a paw at his knee.

 

“What about that crossword book you brought with you?”

 

“Oh! Yeah, good idea. Thanks.”

 

They were quiet for some time, Mingyu earnestly trying to complete a crossword, and Wonwoo beside him, sitting quietly and enjoying watching the early morning filter past them outside the windows.

 

“Hey,” Mingyu spoke up suddenly. “What's another word that means 'old' and 'long ago'? Antique doesn't fit.”

 

Wonwoo hummed in thought for a moment. “Ancient?”

 

Mingyu stopped chewing on the end of his pen to fill in the suggestion. “Yes, that's it! Thanks!”

 

The crossword kept him occupied for another thirty minutes, but then the early morning seemed to catch up with Mingyu, and for almost the rest of the journey he and Wonwoo both dozed, flitting in and out of sleep.

 

He was certainly awake enough when they finally pulled into the station, however. He let out a loud yawn, stretching his arms, Wonwoo doing similar, his paws stretched out in front of him, before Mingyu gathered his things together, and made his way off the train and out of the station. His energy came buzzing back in full force, as he and Wonwoo stepped out into Busan.

 

The morning sun was bright and already hot, as it filtered through the few scattered clouds in an otherwise clear, blue sky. “It's a good day for exploring!” Mingyu said, shooting Wonwoo a wide grin, before they set off.

 

It had been years since Mingyu had actually been to Busan, so he wasn't overly familiar with it, and there was so much to see as he walked around. Even in this still fairly early hour of the day, the difference between here and Seoul was palpable; it didn't seem to matter what time of day it was, Seoul always felt fast and busy and awake. Here, there was a more relaxed sense to the city. Mingyu liked it.

 

He had no specific plans for the day, and while there were a few places he knew he wanted to see, besides those he'd decided to just see where the day, and his feet, took him. He'd brought his digital camera with him as well, with the full intention of taking as many pictures as he could, and Mingyu started this almost as soon as he and Wonwoo had left the train station, snapping away. The bright morning sun worked well with his surroundings.

 

It was the most relaxed, and the most like himself, that Mingyu had felt in an almost worryingly long time. But he felt too good to truly realise this, his attention constantly diverted by one thing and another. He and Wonwoo spent a large portion of the morning, and a good chunk of the afternoon, wandering through the various markets there were to visit. They stopped to enjoy some street food at the fish market, and being surrounded by so much fresh seafood ignited Mingyu's inspiration, giving him ideas for specials he thought he'd like to try at work sometime.

 

He ended up whiling away more hours than he'd expected to looking around Gukje market, there was just so much for he and Wonwoo to see and do (and try not to buy, in Mingyu's case). There was more street food to tempt them, and Mingyu ended up buying a toy frog that reminded him of Minghao, for some reason that only made sense to Mingyu.

 

“You really don't need any of this,” Wonwoo said, somewhat dryly, as Mingyu bought himself a shirt with some English slogan written on it that he couldn't read very well, but thought looked cool.

 

“That's not the point of shopping,” Mingyu said, shaking his head at Wonwoo. “You buy things you want, not that you need.”

 

“I think you have it backwards...”

 

Eventually, Mingyu managed to tear himself away from the market, as difficult as it was, because the one place he really, definitely did want to go and see was Gamcheon. He'd never been there before, and he knew it would be an especially good place to take pictures.

 

When they got there, the sight did not disappoint, and Mingyu spent a good ten minutes just standing, staring and appreciating. The sun had reached its peak some time before, but it still caught all the different colours of the houses in front of him and threw their brightness into the sky. It was an amazing sight to behold, he thought.

 

“Wow,” Wonwoo said, echoing Mingyu's own thoughts.

 

“Yeah, really.”

 

It looked as if colourful building blocks had been stacked up, staircase-fashion, leading up the side of the mountain.

 

Mingyu spent a long time wondering around and taking pictures. He wasn't the only one; despite the heat of the afternoon, there were a lot of other tourists and visitors wondering the streets, cameras and phones in hand.

 

He wondered upon a small museum about the local history of the town, and by the time he came out, the sun was beginning its slow descent into what would eventually become evening.

 

“Oh, crap,” he said. “There won't be time to get to that spa, now. You know, the big, fancy one we read about?”

 

Wonwoo nodded his head in agreement. “We can always come back though. There's tons we didn't get to see today.”

 

The pout that had been beginning on Mingyu's face faded quickly at that. He liked the idea of coming back. “You're right. We should save some things for another time, right?”

 

After stopping for some more food – an actual sit down restaurant this time, instead of all the street food they'd both already consumed that day – they made their way back to the train station.

 

The sky was that beautiful mix of daylight and evening, fingers of red still creeping into the darkening blue, as they took their seats. It was late and both Mingyu and Wonwoo felt tired, but it was the good kind of tired, Mingyu thought, from a day well spent and truly enjoyed. It had been something by himself, for himself, and the effect that left behind was a sense of positivity and hope. Mingyu felt good, really, truly, good and happy in that moment. He felt as if, in wandering through an unfamiliar city, just himself and his spirit, he'd begun to find some pieces of himself again, and started putting them back into place. Or...not quite that, but perhaps more that he had started finding new places for the pieces to fit.

 

He was tired and his mind was wandering, but he couldn't deny the contentedness that both he and Wonwoo were feeling, as their train sped across the country and through the night.

 

Some time during the journey, Mingyu's phone died. So when he finally stumbled into his apartment that night and plugged it in, it was to find a couple of messages from Minghao. Mostly asking about Mingyu's day, and one bemused message saying something about the toy frog Mingyu had bought, because he'd sent a picture to Minghao after he'd found it.

 

He sent a quick message back, promising to tell Minghao more tomorrow, before Mingyu halfheartedly got himself ready for bed. He'd go through the photos on his camera tomorrow, and start posting them to Instagram, he thought.

 

“You know,” Mingyu began, after he and Wonwoo were settled in bed, the darkness of the room and the night surrounding them with its warmth. “I feel really good today.”

 

“Yeah?” Wonwoo answered, sounding sleepy. Mingyu could feel the motion of Wonwoo's tiny body as he breathed, moving against his leg.

 

“Yeah. I think I really needed it. I feel like...” his tired mind struggled to find the words, words that even his awake mind would have trouble to find, admittedly. “I feel like things are really getting better, now? I feel good about the future.”

 

“That's really good, Gyu. So do I.”

 

He'd been planning on saying something else, but as Mingyu's mind wandered along, looking for words to express his emotions, he stepped from waking and slipped, quietly, into sleep instead. A peaceful, dreamless sleep, that Wonwoo shared with him also.

 

**  


“So, I heard you’re dating again?”

 

His mother's casual words took Mingyu by surprise, especially as he'd been in the process of chewing, and he struggled for a moment not to choke. “What?” He asked, staring at his mother. “Who told you? Minghao?”

 

“Of course not,” she said. She dropped a couple of pieces of meat in Mingyu's bowl, before continuing. “In all the years you two have been friends, he's never given away any of your secrets. Though,” she looked thoughtfully at Mingyu, “you never really had many. You weren't a very secretive boy.”

 

“True enough,” Mingyu agreed. “But, how did you know?”

 

“I just do,” was his mother's easy answer.

 

Mingyu huffed, helping himself to another mouthful of food. He always loved coming home and having a home cooked meal and his mother's side dishes. Nothing could ever beat the comfort and the taste, he always thought, of his mother's cooking.

 

While they were eating, Wonwoo and Mingyu's mother's spirit, Soonbok, were off to the side, Wonwoo in the middle of being groomed and taken care of.

 

His mother fixed him with a look, one that as a child, and still even now, had always compelled Mingyu to answer her.

 

“Yeah, okay,” he said, swallowing his mouthful of rice. His spoon clattered noisily against the bowl. “I've gone on a couple of dates lately.”

 

His mother's face lit up, and it was almost enough to have Mingyu's ears turn red with embarrassment. He could hear a small whine from Wonwoo, too, in response to the coddling from his mother's spirit. If Wonwoo could blush, he'd be doing enough for the both of them, Mingyu thought.

 

“It's nothing to get excited about though,” he added quickly. “The dates didn't go anywhere.”

 

His mother didn't look discouraged by this in the least. She leaned across the table, giving Mingyu some more food from the side dishes; always ensuring that he ate enough, no matter how old he grew. It was both touching, and a little embarrassing.

 

“That doesn't matter,” she said, still sounding pleased. “I'm happy for you. Also...”

 

Mingyu raised an eyebrow, instantly suspicious at the new tone in his mother's voice.

 

“Will you let me set you up on a blind date now? He's very cute,” she rushed on, continuing regardless. “Very funny, too, and he's single. I'm sure you'll like him.”

 

“Mum, please,” Mingyu all but groaned. “Just because you've found some guy who also happens to be gay, doesn't mean we'll hit it off. It doesn't work like that.”

 

She shook her head. “No, I mean it. I know his aunt, and he sounds really nice. Charming, and all that. I think she said that he's a radio DJ, for a small station in Seoul?”

 

Despite himself, Mingyu was suddenly a little interested. “Really? That's kind of cool.”

 

“So, will you let me set you up?”

 

Mingyu sighed, but nodded his head. “Sure, why not.” And honestly, he thought, someone that his mother knew, even vaguely, was probably better than the lackluster dates he'd been on so far. What was there to lose.

 

When he was back in his own apartment later that night, full of food and caring, motherly affection, Wonwoo said to him, “You know, she's not happy because you're dating again. She's happy because _you're_ happy, these days.”

 

Wonwoo's words had a profound effect on Mingyu, and he felt his heart swell with love for his mother. He understood a little better now, just why she'd seemed so pleased that evening.

 

“Soonbok told me how worried she'd been about you.”

 

Still, his mother worrying so much about him had the effect of making the tips of Mingyu's ears turn red.

 

“We'll see how happy she is, after this date she's setting me up on goes terribly,” he joked.

 

Wonwoo gave him a look, and a swish of his tail that could be translated to his version of a shrug. “You never know, it might actually go well.”  


**  


Mingyu had felt vaguely excited all day, leading up to the time for his date that night. The excitement didn't dull when he actually met the guy, although a few nerves had begun to spread through him then, too. He was cute, Mingyu decided, with his round cheeks and easy, almost twinkling smile. Seungkwan was his name, and straight away he cracked a joke that had Mingyu laughing, and easing his nerves a little.

 

It was a nice restaurant that had been picked for them, not too fancy and not too casual. There was a cosy, romantic atmosphere to the place, Mingyu thought, as they were shown to their table.

 

His spirit was a small, shy ferret named Samuel, and he and Wonwoo greeted each other politely, before each retreated to curl up by their respective person's feet, looking at each other quietly.

 

“My mother says you're a radio DJ, is that right?” Mingyu asked, once they were settled and seated. With a few other dates under his belt by now, he was beginning to warm up to this process. He still wasn't necessarily looking for love just yet; he'd finally gotten used to being single, but meeting new people seemed okay. He just hoped Seungkwan didn't turn out to be weird, or a creep. At least he'd showed up, though.

 

“Yeah! It's only a small station, but I do a regular weekend show.”

 

“That's so cool,” Mingyu said, genuinely interested. “I'll have to listen to it!”

 

They spent the entire time through choosing their drinks (a soft red wine) and eating through their starters, with Mingyu peppering Seungkwan with questions about being on the radio, and Seungkwan seemingly more than happy to answer them all, even the ridiculous questions ( _'what happens if you fart while you're on air?'_ ) Seungkwan was animated and talkative, also really funny, Mingyu thought, and all of those things were putting him head and shoulders above the past, terrible dates, he'd been on recently. He was easy to talk to, and it helped remind Mingyu that he, too, was usually like this around people.

 

Part way through enjoying their main, Seungkwan turned the topic from Mingyu's job. “Okay, I'm sorry, but I feel like I should say this now,” he started.

 

Mingyu's heart dropped a little. “Oh, no,” he groaned. “You're not even gay, are you?”

 

Seungkwan frowned, shaking his head. “What? No, of course I'm gay! That's not the thing.”

 

“Oh good. That would be embarrassing.” For a moment, Mingyu had forgotten that in ruling that out, it meant there was still something wrong, and when he realised this a moment later, he looked at Seungkwan, puzzled and curious. “What is it then?”

 

“Look,” Seungkwan started, putting his cutlery down. “You're really attractive, kind of funny,” Mingyu raised an eyebrow at that, “and you seem nice. But this isn't going to go any further, I think. There's no chemistry here. No spark, you know?”

 

Mingyu couldn't help but laugh, and it was a little too loud for inside a restaurant; Seungkwan was giving him a look, and he could feel Wonwoo's paw tapping at his leg. “Sorry,” he said a moment later, still chuckling quietly to himself. “It's just, this is like the fifth date I've been on since I've been single, and none of them have ended well. It just seemed funny to me.”

 

This statement didn't do much to clear the confusion from Seungkwan's face.

 

“It's fine,” Mingyu added, laughter gone but a smile still lingering on his face. “I did this date more to make my mother happy, I wasn't really looking for love or anything tonight. I get it.” And he did, really. Yeah, Seungkwan was cute, and funny, and Mingyu had been enjoying their time together. Given more time Mingyu could probably, if he let himself, and things were to work out, feel more, but if Seungkwan wasn't attracted to him, there was no point. And as it was a first, and a blind, date, there was no loss, either. Mingyu had just been enjoying the evening, regardless of a possible romance or not.

 

“The funny thing is,” Mingyu continued, and as he'd started eating his food again, Seungkwan seemed to deem it safe to do so himself too, “this is still the best date I've been on. And I've just been told you wouldn't date me!” It was said teasingly, and Seungkwan cracked a smile.

 

“I did say you're attractive!” Seungkwan said quickly, wanting to defend himself.

 

Mingyu nodded. “Well, of course, just look at this face,” he joked, gesturing at himself. He almost got food on his face for his effort, and Seungkwan snorted at the almost-mishap.

 

“You have to tell me more about these other dates though,” Seungkwan said, leaning forward a little, curious. His spirit peeked his head from out beneath the table, looking up also.

 

“Oh! My god, yes.” And as they ate, Mingyu entertained Seungkwan with his few, but unlucky, dating attempts, telling Seungkwan all about the bore, the creep, and the guy who hadn't even bothered to show up. “And his excuse was that he was doing laundry!” Mingyu finished. Seungkwan reacted appropriately, gasping in surprise before laughing.

 

“Wow, come up with a better excuse,” he said. “That's awful. I feel a little bad now.”

 

Mingyu shook his head. “Don't worry about it. Like I said, I'm not looking for an actual relationship right now. This just gives me good stories to tell people.”

 

From there, Seungkwan began to share his own terrible dating experiences with Mingyu, and they spent the rest of their meal, and throughout dessert too, laughing about how awful and ridiculous people could be.

 

“There was this one guy,” Seungkwan was saying, between mouthfuls of cheesecake, “that immediately after our date, sent me a text asking if I could, um, send him pictures of my feet?”

 

“Oh my god!” Mingyu said, unsettling the table briefly in his horror and amusement. “No? That's gross.”

 

“Right?” Seungkwan agreed. “I blocked him immediately. He'd seemed so normal, too.”

 

When it came to the end of the night, they were both getting the subway in opposite directions.

 

“Well, thank you for the best date, platonic or otherwise, that I've been on in a long time,” Mingyu said, sincerely.

 

Seungkwan smiled at him. “Yeah, this was fun. I actually expected my aunt to set me up with a loser. At least she found a handsome one!”

 

It took Mingyu a moment to realise he was being insulted, and then he gasped, and reached out to hit Seungkwan on the shoulder. “I take it back, you're awful.” Wonwoo, behind Mingyu, was sniggering quietly, and Mingyu sent him a glare. “You, too.”

 

They ended up exchanging numbers anyway, though, because, despite the jokes, Seungkwan had said that he really _had_ enjoyed his evening too, and that being friends might not be awful. Mingyu was happy with that, because he really had liked Seungkwan's company, and felt they'd had a good time together. He was never opposed to making more friends, either.

 

All in all, he thought, as he and Wonwoo rode the subway home that night, despite it not necessarily going as expected, Mingyu was happy.

 

He did, also, make sure to listen to Seungkwan's radio show, on the following weekend.  


**  


“So, how's work going? What's it like, to be teaching in the classroom now instead of being taught?” Mingyu leaned forward in his seat, eyes on Minghao, seated across from him. He was stirring sugar into his coffee, a little too vigorously, and didn't notice as some splashed out and over the edges of the mug.

 

They'd managed to find a somewhat quiet cafe to meet up in, on a warm Sunday afternoon. It was a bit too cutesy for either of their tastes, the theme of this place seemed to be ducks, and they were everywhere. Paintings of cute ducks on the walls, china plates with duck scenery painted onto them, plushies of ducks. It was supposed to be cute, but it was a bit overdone. The coffee was good, though.

 

“It's...really weird,” Minghao admitted. He'd opted for a cold, peach tea instead of a hot coffee, and was sipping at it slowly. When Mingyu had first showed him this cafe, he'd looked around and said _“No wonder they're not packed...”_ and every now and then he continued to eye up the duck paraphernalia with a discerning look. “It's so different. I don't know that I was actually prepared to be working with real children like this.” He laughed then, softly.

 

“It's going well though!” Hansol spoke up, his head was resting across Minghao's lap, as he sat on the floor. “The kids all really like you.”

 

Minghao looked down at Hansol fondly, before returning his attention to Mingyu. “Yeah, I guess they do. It's challenging, but I like it.”

 

Mingyu couldn't help but smile, pleased for his friend, and proud. “Are they cute? I bet they're all adorable.”

 

“They're little shits is what they are,” Minghao joked. “They are pretty cute too, though. The teacher I work with, Seokmin, he's really nice as well. He's been really helpful since I started.”

 

“Wouldn't it be awful if you didn't get along with someone you had to share a classroom with all day, all week?” Mingyu asked. Wonwoo was curled up on a cushion, beside Mingyu on the bench, and was listening quietly to the conversation.

 

“Oh god, I was worried about that! Luckily, I can't imagine not getting along with this guy. He's just so friendly.”

 

“That's good! I'm glad your first week is going well.” Mingyu lifted his mug to take a sip – and immediately put it down again, his tongue and the inside of his mouth burning from the heat. A little more coffee sloshed over the rim of the mug again, when he put it down. “Shit, that's hot,” Mingyu said, fanning his mouth with one hand, and wiping the mess he'd made on the table with another. Wonwoo twitched a little, beside him.

 

Minghao laughed at him. “You're an idiot.”

 

“Thanks.” After a moment the table was clean again, and Mingyu's mouth wasn't in quite so much pain, and he could turn his attention back to Minghao. “Oh, yeah, are you coming out next weekend, with me and Seungkwan?”

 

Minghao looked thoughtful, before giving a nod. “Sure, why not. I'm a bit interested in meeting this new friend of yours, I guess.”

 

Mingyu beamed, excited at the prospect. “I think you two will get along. It'll be fun!”

 

“It better be,” Minghao warned, “or I'm holding you personally accountable.”

 

“I promise,” Mingyu said with a laugh. “I promise!”

 

Mingyu took a tentative sip of his drink, and was happy to find it now cool enough to sip at slowly.

 

Minghao looked, and sounded, a little more serious the next time he spoke. “I know I don't really say things like this often, but, you know...it's been really good to see you happier, these days.” He looked almost a little uncomfortable, at being the one to bring it up first, but Mingyu could feel the sincerity in Minghao's words.

 

Beside Minghao, Hansol was nodding his head in agreement.

 

Mingyu felt himself smile. “Yeah, you know, I really am feeling better lately.” It was true enough, he'd felt the change growing around him, slowly, over the past couple weeks – really, the past couple of months – and it was nice, he thought, that it was noticeable now too. Eight months down the line, and looking back at it all, Mingyu could now see the differences.

 

“It's good,” Minghao said. “But, I need to ask you something.”

 

“What is it?” Mingyu raised an eyebrow, curious.

 

Minghao leaned across the table, lowering his voice a little. “Of all the places, why did you pick _here_ to meet up?”

 

Mingyu looked around at them, and then back at Minghao, before laughing.

 

“Don't you like ducks?” Wonwoo asked, head raised now, watching Minghao and Mingyu both with amusement.

 

“Yeah,” Mingyu chimed in. “Are you scared of them or something?”

 

“Of course I'm not,” Minghao scoffed, leaning back in his seat. He eyed the décor again, before looking back at Mingyu. “It's just a bit...much.”

 

Mingyu was still laughing when he replied. “I wanted to find a cafe that would actually have seats, on a sunny Sunday afternoon. I thought a less well known one would be a good idea! Also,” he added, “when I looked it up online, it sounded cuter than it is.”

 

“I like it,” Hansol decided.

 

“You would,” Minghao said, shooting him a look.

 

“I'm disappointed you don't like it here,” Mingyu said, putting on a sad expression. It was hard though, to look sad while sipping at his coffee. “I was gonna take you to some other nice themed cafes too! I found this awesome frog one...”

 

“Don't you dare,” Minghao warned, speaking quickly. “Don't even think about it.”

 

“Where else did we find, when we were looking earlier?” Mingyu said, turning to consult Wonwoo.

 

“Oh, there was that princess cafe too, wasn't there?”

 

“Yes! Perfect, we'll go there next.”

 

Minghao groaned, looking defeated. Hansol rubbed his face against Minghao's legs in a kind of _there-there_ way.

 

“I hate you,” he declared.

 

“You love me,” Mingyu insisted, a wide grin spreading across his face.

 

“Nope. Definitely hate.”

 

Mingyu stretched a leg out beneath the table, tapping at Minghao's leg playfully. Except he did it a little bit too hard, and it was almost a kick.

 

“Ow!” Minghao said, sitting up straighter as he shifted.

 

“Sorry,” Mingyu said, laughing sheepishly. “Anyway, you definitely love me. Who doesn't? I'm great.”

 

“You're the worst.”

 

“The best,” Mingyu insisted, laughing at the sour face Minghao gave him.

 

“The best at being _the worst_.”

 

“I'll take it!”

 

Minghao laughed, his amusement cracking through the facade now. “You're a dork.”

 

Mingyu beamed. “I'll take that, too.”

 

**  


“Hey, what are you doing this evening?” It was Friday, and for once Mingyu didn't have the dinner shift at the restaurant, so his first thought had been to call Minghao.

 

“I was actually going out with Seokmin for a few drinks, now we're finished work.”

 

Mingyu frowned. “Seokmin?”

 

“Yeah. The teacher I work with,” Minghao reminded him.

 

“Oh!” Mingyu remembered now Minghao talking before about how nice and friendly his colleague was. He was leant up against a wall outside the restaurant, waiting to see what happened, before he chose any direction to walk in. Mingyu opened his mouth to say something, when Minghao interrupted him.

 

“Hang on a moment.” Then all Mingyu could hear down the phone was a pair of muffled voices speaking, before Minghao’s voice came back, clear again. “You're welcome to join us, if you want? I'm guessing that's why you're calling, anyway, because you're not working tonight?”

 

“You guessed right,” Mingyu confirmed, laughing a little. And he thought to himself, sure, why not join Minghao and his colleague. People didn't usually have to offer Mingyu an invitation twice. “Where are you going? I'll meet you there.”

 

They hung up after Minghao told Mingyu where they were, and Mingyu pushed himself off of the wall, he and Wonwoo heading towards the nearest subway station.

 

It was after work for most people, so the train was pretty busy when Mingyu got on, forcing him to stand off to the side, bending awkwardly. A sudden thought occurred to him, and he looked down at himself, trying to make sure he hadn't spilt any food on himself at work that afternoon.

 

“You're fine,” Wonwoo said, crouched between Mingyu’s legs, making sure to not touch any other people in the crowd.

 

“Oh, thank god,” Mingyu sighed. “For a moment I was worried I'd sat on some food or something earlier.”

 

“Oh. Is that what it is?”

 

“What?” Mingyu whipped his head round, staring down at Wonwoo, who was laughing quietly to himself.

 

“You suck,” Mingyu said.

 

“And you look fine,” Wonwoo confirmed, once again. “No food on your ass.”

 

“Good.”

 

He hadn't gone home after work, but Mingyu was dressed well enough, he thought, for some casual drinks. Minghao and his colleague would have come straight from work, too, so there was no need to worry. Not that Mingyu did, really, because he knew he always looked good anyway. It was just that sometimes, at work, food was quite...attracted to his clothes.

 

It was a relief when, twenty minutes later, Mingyu and Wonwoo had worked their way back up to street level. The air was still warm about them, but nowhere near as stifling as it had been, even a month ago. It was going to be a nice, clear, evening, Mingyu thought.

 

His spirits were high, as he walked into the bar some minutes later. He scanned the room, and soon spotted Minghao, seated with who he could only assume was his colleague, over at a table in the corner of the room. Minghao raised a hand, waving Mingyu over.

 

“Hey!” Mingyu said, smiling, as he came up to the table. His eyes fell on Minghao's colleague then, and he dipped his head in greeting. “Hi, I'm Mingyu,” he offered, still smiling.

 

“Nice to meet you!” The man said, smiling in return, as Mingyu took the seat opposite them both. The smile took Mingyu a little off guard, with how bright and genuine it was. “I'm Seokmin, I work with Minghao. This is Seungcheol!” He added brightly, gesturing at the large, golden retriever spirit beside him. Seungcheol’s tail _thumped_ loudly against the floor, an enthusiastic greeting.

 

“Yeah, Minghao's mentioned you before,” Mingyu said, pulling his jacket off, and getting himself settled.

 

Seokmin laughed at that, and his eyes crinkled in such a way that they all but disappeared. “Oh really?”

 

“Don't worry,” Minghao assured Seokmin, though there was a small smile playing on his face. “I told him all about how terrible you are to work with. It's okay.” He reached forward then, pushing one of the glasses on the table across to Mingyu, who smiled his thanks. Minghao knew him well.

 

Seokmin's laugh was louder that time. “Oh, good! Thank you.”

 

Mingyu found himself looking between Minghao and Seokmin, and even though he knew the two had only been working together now for several weeks, he could see that there was already an easy, friendly rapport between them. Minghao didn't have many other friends besides Mingyu, so he was pleased to see it.  And to see Minghao happy and feeling good, too, after all the stress that college and his career and his parents had caused for him over the years.

 

Seokmin turned towards Mingyu, the easy smile still lingering on his face. _Cute_ , Mingyu thought.

 

“So, Minghao tells me you're a...chef, at a restaurant, right?” He'd paused between his words, as if trying to recollect properly what he'd been told, and his smile widened when Mingyu nodded in confirmation.

 

“Yeah, I am.”

 

“That's funny,” Seokmin said. “Because I'm a big fan of food! Of eating it, in particular.”

 

Mingyu couldn't help but laugh, as he went along with the joke. “Oh really? That's such a coincidence!”

 

The small talk flowed pretty smoothly, for first time meetings, with Minghao there between them. Mingyu was naturally talkative, and Seokmin seemed chatty as well, and so the rest of the evening passed by pleasantly, between a couple of drinks and mouths moving miles a minute with jokes and chatter. By the time they all parted ways, Mingyu could see why Minghao got along with Seokmin so easily.

 

“A dog spirit suits him,” was Wonwoo's input, as they made their way through the streets towards the nearest subway station.

 

Mingyu nodded his head. “Yeah, I think you're right. It was a good evening, wasn't it?”

 

“Definitely,” Wonwoo agreed.

 

**  


“You know what I miss the most?” Mingyu rolled over onto his side, blinking out into the darkness of his room. Shadows blanketed over everything he owned, turning what was familiar in daylight into vague, misshapen curves in the dark.

 

“What?” Wonwoo asked, letting out the sleepy yawn that Mingyu felt. His quiet voice came from near Mingyu's feet.

 

“About being with someone,” Mingyu clarified, although Wonwoo probably knew what he meant, anyway. They felt the same, after all.

 

“Hmm?”

 

Mingyu pulled in a breath, and let it out in one slow exhalation. “I miss someone to share the bed with.” It was the first time in a long time, since Mingyu had noticed how large and empty his bed felt to him. The last time he'd thought this had been after he'd moved, and found himself alone in his new apartment, and his new bed, for the first time in years.

 

He'd gotten used to it by now, but...

 

“Well, you are a cuddler,” Wonwoo said. “But also, you hog the blankets. That might be a dealbreaker for some.”

 

It was said lightly, teasing, and Mingyu laughed quietly. He wasn't sad, it was more an observation than anything.

 

“I'm sure there's someone who'll put up with your clingy ways.”

 

“Yeah,” Mingyu said, half-yawning and half-talking. “Maybe.”

 

He was quiet for some time, before another thought, circling his mind, made its way out into the darkness of the bedroom, too. There was never any point trying to keep a thought to himself, because Wonwoo always knew, anyway. “Tomorrow would have been our two-thousand day, you know.”

 

Wonwoo hummed in acknowledgement. “Are you okay?”

 

Mingyu took a moment to think about it and found, to his surprise, that he kind of was. “It's not as bad as I thought it would be,” he answered, blinking out into the dark. Parts of it still hurt, he thought, and he supposed his heart wasn't entirely healed yet; it felt a little tender still, upon examination. But eight months on, and Mingyu wasn't the emotional mess he'd been back then. He'd been getting used to learning how to live without him for some time now. “And I will be,” he added, after a thoughtful few minutes. “Okay, I mean.”

 

He could both hear and feel as Wonwoo's fluffy tail thumped lightly against the blankets. “Yeah,” he agreed quietly. “You will be.”

 

Quiet fell around them again, and Mingyu's eyes soon fluttered closed. Feeling warm and okay about things, he slipped into a dreamless sleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone who's interested, [this](http://english.visitkorea.or.kr/enu/ATR/SI_EN_3_1_1_1.jsp?cid=1998211) is what the Gamcheon Culture Village in Busan is supposed to look like!


	5. Interlude

  _“I don't...do we have to have this argument?” Mingyu asked, looking over at Taejoon. “I don't want to fight again.”_

 

_“I'm not fighting,” Taejoon insisted. He was standing over by their small kitchen table, as Mingyu was in the process of trying to cook them something for dinner. It had come out of nowhere, like it always seemed to do, these days. Words to knock the breath from Mingyu's body. To knock the feelings from his heart. “I'm just trying to tell you how I'm feeling lately. Am I not allowed to talk about that?”_

 

_Mingyu tried not to sigh. “Of course,” he answered. “You can always be honest with me. You know that.”_

 

_There was a look on Taejoon's face, he wasn't convinced. He was in one of those moods, it seemed. Mingyu could feel it coming, and yet he had no idea how to stop it. How did one prevent a crash, when it was coming right for them?_

 

_Wonwoo was as close to Mingyu as he could possibly be, behind Mingyu's legs, hiding away, as Mingyu wished he could do just then, too._

 

_“I've just been feeling, lately, like there's this distance between us. You're so far away.”_

 

_Mingyu felt his head begin to spin. This wasn't the first time. He had a horrible feeling that it wouldn't be the last time, either. He pulled in a couple of long, deep, breaths, and switched off the stove, before turning to face Taejoon. They looked over at each other, from opposite sides of the room._

 

_“I don't know what else to do?” Mingyu said, sounding as helpless as he felt. “I'm always here for you? Like...” he didn't know how to put it into words, and into words that Taejoon might actually listen to and understand, but he felt that a lot of what he did was centered around Taejoon, and Mingyu's love and support for him. He let out a breath, hands falling to his side, as he stared across at Taejoon. “Everything I do is for you?”_

 

_“It just. It doesn't feel like that, you know? I didn't hear from you at all yesterday...”_

 

_That was enough to make another emotion bubble up and out of Mingyu. Beside him, he could feel Wonwoo's fur bristle in response. “No, that's not right at all!” He insisted, a little heatedly now. “You were working all day. I sent you messages and stuff. You didn't answer.”_

 

_Taejoon frowned. “You could have tried harder. It just feels like you don't make much of an effort anymore. Do you even love me still?”_

 

_“Tae...” Mingyu groaned, covering his face with his hands. He could feel other emotions beginning to rise and start to overwhelm him now. This was like running around in painful, unending circles. “Of course I love you.” When he took his hands away, it was to see Taejoon looking over at him, unhappiness painted across his face. His spirit was pacing around his legs in small, agitated circles._

 

_Mingyu dropped his hands to his sides, feeling defeated. He didn't want to fight, he hated fighting. He hated having the same discussion over and over again, with no change, and no resolution, no matter what he did or how hard he tried._

 

“ _What else do you want me to do?” He asked, giving in._

 

_**_

 

_“I don't deserve you.”_

 

_Mingyu was trying to sleep, though, for a man who was excellent at sleeping and terrible at getting up, tonight he was having trouble. Emotions and thoughts all stirred up within him. He'd been pretending to sleep, though, rolled over onto his side, facing away from Taejoon._

 

_Clearly, Taejoon was unable to sleep, too._

 

_For a moment, Mingyu debated whether he should continue pretending to be asleep or not. But he couldn't help himself. “What do you mean?”_

 

_“Like. I'm barely here for you lately. I'm working all the time, and you're just there. Supporting me anyway. I don't know why you stick around. I don't deserve to have you here.”_

 

 _For a good, long moment, Mingyu didn't know what to say. But he found his mouth forming the words he usually said, walking the same, worn path he'd walked before now. “Don't be stupid. I love you.”_  
_  
_ Sometimes, he wondered how a person could in one moment, make Mingyu feel like the most important person in the universe, and then in the next make him feel useless and insignificant. Small, a waste of space. Something about it didn’t seem right, to him.

 

_He felt as Taejoon shuffled across the bed, pulling Mingyu into his arms. What would usually be a hold of warmth and comfort, now felt cold and empty to Mingyu, as he struggled to make himself fall asleep._

 


	6. Beginning (I)

Mingyu pushed the door open, letting Chan into the restaurant. “Come in quick,” he said, closing the door behind Chan. “It's freezing outside!” He stamped his feet a couple of times, and rubbed his hands together, after locking back up again. Even the small amount of cold air that had followed behind had been enough to send a chill through Mingyu.

 

Chan gave him a look. “It's not that bad. You're always cold.” Behind him, Jeonghan the cat spirit slinked in, shaking the cold from his fur.

 

“It is, and I am,” he agreed. He rubbed his hands up and down his shoulders, as he walked back through to the kitchen, Chan following along behind him, scoffing at Mingyu’s overdramatics.

 

November had barrelled its way into the year with a cold, bitter bite, and more often than not, Mingyu could feel the chill go straight to his bones.

 

“Wow,” Chan said, when his eyes met the sight of the kitchen. “This place is a mess.”

 

Mingyu was in the midst of preparing for dinner service. Which meant that Chan wasn't lying.

 

“Give me an hour and it'll be immaculate again,” he answered. Wonwoo had found a nearby corner, warm and out of the way, to curl up in, while Mingyu went about his kitchen duties. Chan and Jeonghan hung around for a little while too, until the other members of staff started to slowly trickle in for work as well. Then there was no excuse, and Chan had to actually get up and start working, and Mingyu had to focus more on what he needed to get done, too.

 

Dinner service was in full swing – well, it was a quiet Tuesday evening in the middle of November, so full swing, but perhaps a small and slow full swing.

 

Chan came back through into the kitchen, Jeonghan following gracefully behind him. “Hey, who's that with Minghao?”

 

Mingyu turned from what he was doing, then remembered that he couldn't actually do that while he was cooking. “What? Minghao's here?” He was certain that Minghao hadn't said anything about coming by for dinner tonight; he certainly hadn't mentioned it the last time Mingyu had checked his phone, in any case.

 

“Yeah, he's here with a guy. Is he seeing someone?”

 

At that, Mingyu took the pan off of the stove, and strode over towards Chan. Wonwoo's attention had been grabbed, too, and he leapt from where he'd been curled up, and came trotting over towards Mingyu.

 

“No, he isn't. He better not be keeping anything secret from me!” He pushed open the door, peeking through to the dining room, scanning the semi-filled roomful of diners, before he eventually saw Minghao, sitting in the corner with another man. Mingyu let out a laugh, before closing the door. “Oh, that's Seokmin,” he said, making his way back over towards the stove. He put the pan back onto the heat, and continued with his cooking.

 

“That's Seokmin? Huh,” was Chan's remark. “Is Minghao seeing him?”

 

Mingyu's head turned back so quickly it was a wonder he didn't twist his neck or something. “What? No. No!” He frowned as he suddenly considered the question, though he was certain Minghao would have said something, if he'd even liked Seokmin like that.

 

“Okay,” Chan said, easily enough. He wasn't really invested in the outcome one way or another. “Here's the order for their table.”

 

When Mingyu turned to look behind him, it was to see the swish of Jeonghan's fluffy tail, before the door closed fully behind them both.

 

It was a little while later when Mingyu found a quiet moment to pass some of the cooking off to the other cook in the kitchen with him, and make his way out into the dining room, Wonwoo padding along quietly behind him. Minghao was alone at the table, when Mingyu came up to him.

 

“Hey! I didn't know you were coming tonight,” he said, giving Minghao a smile. He dropped himself into an empty seat beside Minghao. Wonwoo ran up to Hansol, and they began to have a quiet conversation between themselves.

 

“It was a whim, really,” Minghao answered, shrugging a shoulder as he smiled back. “We were hungry, and Seokmin mentioned wanting to try your food.”

 

Mingyu laughed at that. “If he wanted to try it so bad, you guys could have just come over to my place!” He glanced over at what was presumably Seokmin's empty seat, and then back again at Minghao. “Did he leave already?” Their plates of food were still on the table, but empty, though neither had ordered dessert yet, so it would have been strange to leave already, Mingyu thought.

 

Minghao shook his head. “He just went to the restroom, he'll be back in a minute.”

 

Knowing that they were alone for a moment gave Mingyu the idea to mention it. “Hey, so, question,” he started. One of his hands began to fiddle with the spare, folded napkin in front of him. “Are you and Seokmin seeing each other?”

 

Minghao's eyes widened in surprise, clearly not expecting that question. He laughed a little, and shook his head. Mingyu could feel the tug of curiosity in Wonwoo's emotions, as his conversation with Hansol stuttered briefly, before continuing.

 

“No, of course not. We work together,” Minghao said, as if that was obvious. “Besides,” he added, and now he was looking back at Mingyu, “he's more your type than mine.”

 

“W-what?” Mingyu asked, frowning in confusion. His fingers were still toying with the napkin.

 

“You know. Tall, loud, and annoying.” Minghao flashed him a grin then, the one he always gave when he was getting a good, merciless dig in at Mingyu. It widened, as Minghao watched the wheels turning in Mingyu's head for a moment. “Like you,” he added, when Mingyu seemed to not get what Minghao thought was a very well placed insult.

 

Realisation finally dawned on Mingyu, and he narrowed his eyes at Minghao. “You're the worst. Why are we friends? That's so rude!” He let go of the napkin, to gesture at Minghao with both hands instead, to try and get across just how rude he thought his friend was being.

 

“You're right, and I'll apologise to Seokmin as soon as he's back. He's nowhere near as annoying as you are.” Minghao's smile flashed, wider.

 

“The worst,” Mingyu huffed, trying to pout sadly, but not succeeding very well at all. Out the corner of his eye he could see Chan gesturing to him, and pointing over towards the kitchen. “Oops,” Mingyu said, pushing himself out of the seat. “I've gotta get back to the kitchen. Hope you guys enjoyed the food, though!”

 

“Always do,” Minghao said, giving Mingyu a _shoo-_ ing motion. “I'll text you later if I don't see you again!”

 

It was only when Mingyu was back in the kitchen again, picking up his slack and continuing to actually work, that he realised he hadn't been able to say hello to Seokmin.

 

About twenty minutes later, when the already quiet dinner service had lessened even further, and Mingyu was on his own in the kitchen for a moment, there was a voice at the door. “I've come to make a complaint to the chef?”

 

He could feel Wonwoo jump beside him, as he turned around, both caught unawares. It was to see Seokmin leaning through the door, a smile on his face.

 

“Oh? Was something wrong with your food?” Mingyu asked, going along with it. Seokmin's golden retriever spirit, Seungcheol, had stuck his head through the door as well, peeking around from behind Seokmin's legs. Wonwoo let out a sound, in greeting.

 

“Yes,” Seokmin said, smile widening further. “It was too good!”

 

Mingyu burst out laughing at the ridiculous comment, and it took a moment before he could even respond. “Well, that's the kind of complaint I don't mind hearing,” he managed to get out eventually.

 

“Minghao and I are about to leave, but I didn't want to go before telling you, and saying thanks.”

 

“You're welcome.”

 

“You're still on for the weekend, right?”

 

Mingyu nodded. “Of course, I wouldn't miss it!”

 

Seokmin grinned. “Great. I'll see you later then. Have a good night!”

 

“Thanks, you too!”

 

Mingyu was still smiling to himself, when he turned back and continued cleaning up the kitchen mess he usually left behind himself.

 

“That was nice,” Wonwoo commented.

 

“Yeah,” Mingyu agreed. “It was.”  
  


**

  


Over the past couple of months, Seokmin seemed to have worked his way into Mingyu and Minghao's friendship. It was as if he'd dug a comfortable little spot in between them, and settled himself there. It was a good fit. Seokmin was loud and silly, and happy to go along with Mingyu's jokes. But he was also kind and considerate, and he had a way about him of even making Minghao soft at times.

 

Seokmin grew to become a nice addition to their social life. Sometimes after work, when Mingyu had an evening off and Seokmin and Minghao had gotten out from school, they'd go out for cheap food and a couple of drinks, and just unwind from the day behind them.

 

He'd even gone to karaoke with them recently; Seungkwan had asked Mingyu, and told him to invite everyone he knew, which, excluding Seungkwan, only left Minghao, Chan, and now Seokmin. That had been a fun night out, Mingyu thought, remembering it now with a smile. A few too many drinks towards the end, resulting in a couple of ear-splitting renditions of popular ballads, and by that time of the night none of them had sung well anymore.

 

Seokmin had even slid his way into some of Mingyu and Minghao's movie nights, when they liked to eat too many snacks and watch particularly bad action movies together, time permitting between the increasingly busy lives of responsible adults. And Mingyu couldn't say that he minded, because really, he didn't. Seokmin, along with Seungcheol, were easy additions to make room for in his life.

 

“So, what's tonight's movie about?” Seokmin asked, helping Mingyu carry some of the snacks into his living room. Behind them, Seungcheol and Wonwoo were having their own conversation, though Mingyu couldn't hear what they were talking about.

 

“It's about a train that won't stop,” Minghao answered instead, already seated in his favourite of Mingyu's chairs. “There's meant to be a lot of tension, as it barrells through the city.”

 

“Ooh.” Seokmin dropped himself down onto the couch. “Sounds thrilling!”

 

“It's meant to be ridiculous,” Minghao said, a smile of excited anticipation on his face.

 

Mingyu offered a handful of snacks to Minghao, before going over to sit on the other side of the couch, with Seokmin, now that everyone was appropriately snacked up. Their spirits had all settled themselves down too, on the floor in front of them. Some cushions had definitely been stolen, and were now being used as well, Mingyu thought, eyeing them all. There was Hansol, the small maned wolf, with his long legs stretched out comfortably. Seungcheol, the golden retriever, circled the floor a couple of times, before lying down, and somehow managed to make his large, fluffy body look small, all curled up like that. And between them both was Wonwoo, fennec fox, basking in the warmth from both sides. Mingyu smiled to himself, because he could feel Wonwoo's comfort; it was his own comfort, too.

 

The movie started, and it was immediately an assault to the senses, loud, banging drums of music thrumming through Mingyu's small living room. The train was already unstoppable, and the noise from that, as well as the music, and characters shouting what were meant to be iconic, quotable lines (but were actually laughable) made it a cacophony of sounds, aimed at them.

 

Minghao groaned, when five minutes after all that drama, the scenery switched and words came up on the screen declaring _24 hours earlier._ “It's such a cop out, when movies do that. Well,” he amended, looking a little thoughtful. “When they do it poorly, anyway. Non-linear storytelling can be really effective, when done right.”

 

“Alright, Professor, we're not in a lecture right now,” Mingyu teased. Seokmin laughed, though he was spared Minghao's glare – those were usually reserved for Mingyu, and Mingyu only. (And who could glare at Seokmin anyway, Mingyu wondered). Except he'd had years of that glare being aimed in his direction, and now all it did was make him laugh. “I think you're overthinking the shitty action film.”

 

“Yeah, apparently it's got like...a four, or something? You might be expecting too much.”

 

“I'm just saying,” Minghao said, waving a hand around, “that when you do it thoughtlessly like this, it's a cop out. They should try harder.”

 

“Yes,” Seokmin agreed, nodding his head. “You're right.” He looked over at Mingyu then, and they both shrugged, a little helplessly, at each other, before breaking out into smiles.

 

The movie was, in fact, terrible, and possibly not even worth the whole four stars it had somehow managed to achieve, but it was terrible in that entertaining way that only a ridiculous, over the top, action movie really could be. Everything that happened seemed to defy the laws of physics – much to Minghao's chagrin. But each new, and bigger, unnecessary explosion that took place had Mingyu and Seokmin whooping with laughter, amused by the spectacle of it all.

 

“What a relief, that they managed to get the train to stop before it destroyed the city!” Seokmin said at the end of it, pretending to sound relieved. As if none of them could have guessed the outcome to the movie (they all had).

 

“Well, that was a ride,” Mingyu declared, as the credits rolled. He stood up, forgetting that he still had a bag of crisps on his lap, spilling them all to the floor. “Aw, crap,” he said looking down at the mess he'd made, not at all surprised.

 

Minghao just rolled his eyes, also not surprised. Seokmin jumped up from the couch though, and bent down, immediately helping Mingyu to clean the mess. “What a waste,” Seungcheol observed, sadly, from where he was laying.

 

“You don't even need to eat,” Hansol pointed out, raising his head.

 

“No,” Seungcheol agreed. “But it was what Seokmin was thinking.”

 

“Ssh,” Seokmin admonished playfully. “I'm trying to be helpful here.”

 

“Don't worry,” Mingyu assured, gesturing at Seokmin to stop. “I'll sort it out.”

 

“Yeah,” Minghao chimed in, as Seokmin sat back down on the couch. “Mingyu's used to it, he's always making a mess.”

 

Mingyu was on his way into the kitchen, forcing Wonwoo to get up and follow a bit behind him, before the heart-deep tug of distance could settle between them, when he heard Seokmin answer. “Oh, really? But I thought you said he was really clean?”

 

“He is, but he's also stupidly clumsy.”

 

“Thanks,” Mingyu said, flashing a smile over at Minghao, as he came back into the living room, dustpan and brush now in hand. “I like to joke that I'm both the best at making a mess,” Mingyu said to Seokmin, as he knelt down now to sweep the food up from the floor. “And the best at cleaning it up, too.”

 

“Oh.” Seokmin nodded in understanding, before laughing. “I see, I see. I'm learning a lot, tonight.”

 

Once Mingyu had thrown the mess into the garbage, and had finally settled back on the couch again – so that Wonwoo could again settle down on his (stolen) cushion – he turned his attention back towards both his friends. “So, does Minghao talk about me a lot at work, or something?”

 

Minghao scoffed. “There's no time to talk about you. Seokmin's busy teaching the kids, and I'm busy making sure they behave. Why would we talk about you anyway?”

 

“Because I'm perfect and amazing?” Mingyu said, as if it was obvious.

 

Seokmin was looking between the both of them, before he dissolved into laughter. “I'm sorry, but you guys are funny. You can tell you've been friends for a long time.”

 

“Yeah, 'friends' is a word for it,” said Minghao.

 

The rest of the night passed by with lots of joking and talking between them all, some variety show left on in the background just for noise. They ate too many snacks, ordered pizza for delivery, and laughed too much.

 

It was a good night.  
  


**  
  


**_Seokmin:_ ** _So, are we at a point in our friendship where I can ask you for favours yet?_

 

His message notification sound had taken Mingyu by surprise – he hadn't been napping, as he'd said to Wonwoo just a moment ago, merely resting his eyes – so he stared at the words a little longer than necessary, processing.

 

“Well, answer him then! What does he want, anyway?” Wonwoo asked, climbing up onto the arm of the couch and reading over Mingyu's shoulder. One of Wonwoo’s large ears brushed the side of Mingyu’s face, his fur tickling.

 

 **_Mingyu:_ ** _You can always ask me for a favour!_

 **_Mingyu:_ ** _It just depends if I'm in the mood to say yes or not._

 

He added an obnoxious laughing emoji to the message, just for fun.

 

 **_Seokmin:_ ** _...is that a yes?_

 

 **_Mingyu:_ ** _Yes! What do you need?_

 

While Mingyu waited for Seokmin to get back to him, he turned the television on, settling on some drama he'd seen a couple of episodes of by now, just out of boredom more than anything else, though, he assured himself.

 

 ** _Seokmin:_** _Well...I wanted to rearrange my classroom_

 **_Seokmin:_ ** _And as Minghao's not been well, I want him to rest and take it easy!_

 **_Seokmin:_ ** _So I wondered if I could borrow your strength one afternoon to help me? Please?_

 

Mingyu waited a moment, to make sure that no further messages were incoming, before he replied.

 

 **_Mingyu:_ ** _So you need me to be strong and handsome for you, and move some furniture?_

 

 **_Seokmin:_ ** _Hey! Not that I'm not strong and handsome myself._

 **_Seokmin:_ ** _I'd just like an extra pair of arms! Please!_

 

Seokmin sent a load of smiling emojis, as if this would further sway Mingyu.

 

It did.

 

Not that Mingyu was going to say no anyway, because he never minded helping a friend. And by now, he definitely considered Seokmin a friend, too.

 

Mingyu was grinning to himself, as he text back.

 

 **_Mingyu:_ ** _Not doubting the handsome bit, I just have yet to see any sign of the strength part._

 

It wasn't until the little _1_ next to his message disappeared – signalling Seokmin had read it – and a long few moments moved by without a reply, that Mingyu realised that perhaps his message had come out sounding a little...flirty, without a teasing tone to go with it. Hopefully, Seokmin wouldn't see anything in it.

 

 **_Seokmin:_ ** _Great!!! Thank you!!_

 

Followed by several ridiculous stickers, and happy face emoji's, making Mingyu laugh. Wonwoo let out a soft little huff behind him, still following the messages along.

 

 **_Seokmin:_ ** _Let me know an afternoon you might be free this week?_

 

 **_Mingyu:_ ** _Is Wednesday ok?_

 

 **_Seokmin:_ ** _Perfect! Thank you so much! Come meet me at the school at about 4?_

 

Their messages after that turned into silly jokes, spaced further and further apart as, presumably, they went about doing other things with their evening. Mingyu couldn't stop himself from smiling a little, and laughing louder than he should have, every time he got another silly message from Seokmin, for the rest of the night.

  


**

  


By the time Mingyu got to Seokmin's school – just on time, though – all the kids were gone, but there were still some members of staff lingering around and cleaning up. Seokmin's classroom was empty though, bar Seokmin himself, and Seungcheol.

 

Mingyu knocked on the open door, before stepping inside, a smile on his face. “Hi,” he said. He and Wonwoo made their way over towards Seokmin, who was bent over his desk, shuffling some papers away.

 

Seokmin looked up, a smile immediately lighting up his face. “Hey.” Seungcheol let out a delighted bark, in greeting.

 

“Long day?” Mingyu asked.

 

“Oh no, does it show on my face?” Though even as he said it, the smile still lingered, as he straightened up and turned to properly face Mingyu.

 

Mingyu shook his head. “No! Not at all, I just figured...cause Minghao was sick today, right?”

 

Seokmin nodded. “Yeah, it's a...little more chaotic on my own, but it was fine. Perk of the job though, getting every illness the kids get, too. How is Minghao doing, do you know?”

 

“Yeah, I took him some food and medicine before I came over, he thinks he'll feel better by tomorrow.”

 

The relief was evident on Seokmin's face. “Oh, good. I'm glad.”

 

It struck Mingyu then, and weird, he thought, to realise it only now, that this was the first time really that he and Seokmin had been alone together, without Minghao there as well. It wasn't a bad thing, it just struck him in this moment, as he looked at Seokmin, and searched for something to say that wasn't about the missing friend between them.

 

“If you're tired though,” Mingyu began, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck, “we can always do this another day? You should probably rest or something.”

 

Seokmin shook his head. “No, no. I'm not tired at all!” As if to highlight how exactly not tired Seokmin – and therefore Seungcheol too – wasn't, Seungcheol began running around the room in small circles, in a display of energy. Mingyu could hear Wonwoo, behind him, laughing quietly.  
  
“Hey, now,” Seokmin said, though he was laughing too.

 

When Seungcheol came to a stop a moment later besides Seokmin, he was panting a little, tongue lolling out of his mouth. “Okay, now I'm a bit tired,” Seungcheol said.

 

“You're ridiculous,” Seokmin informed him, fondly.

 

“So, do you have an idea for what you want to do?” Mingyu asked after a moment, surveying the room before him. It was well laid out already, he thought, but he could already see a few adjustments they could probably make, to help maximise the floor space a little more.

 

“Yes!” Seokmin said, turning back to his desk again. “I printed it off somewhere, I'm sure. I was online the other night looking up good layout ideas.” There was the sound of shuffling papers again, but to no avail, it seemed. “Damn, I think I left it at home. Well, I think I can remember it well enough anyway,” he added, turning back towards Mingyu.

 

“I'm sure it'll be fine,” Mingyu assured. He smiled then, playfully, and brought up one arm, showing off his bicep. “I came prepared, at least!”

 

His silly joke was enough to get Seokmin to laugh though, a little loud in the empty room.

 

“At least one of us is!”

 

Eventually they began the task in earnest, both of them rolling up their sleeves, soon getting warm from moving tables and furniture around.

 

“I was thinking of putting the bookshelves along that wall?” Seokmin said, pointing out what he meant.

 

Mingyu stood back to observe the space, before shaking his head. “What if you put it along this wall instead?” He said, gesturing to the wall nearest him. “That way, you'll have some more space for the kids artwork and things?”

 

Seokmin studied the options, trying to visualise them in his mind, before he nodded. “You're right,” he agreed. “Also, if the group time space is going over there,” he said, gesturing to a corner of the room, “then it won't be close enough to distract any of the kids, either.”

 

“Great! Let's shift these bookshelves, then.”

 

After the bookshelves had been moved, and chairs and tables rearranged, they stopped for a drink. When Seokmin handed Mingyu the small carton of orange juice, Mingyu couldn't help but look at it, and laugh. It almost looked like a toy or something, the small box held in his hand.

 

“Living the high life here, huh?” He joked.

 

Seokmin shrugged, laughing along with him. “It's all I've got. I'm your one stop supply for juice boxes.”

 

Laughing, they pretended to clink their cartons together as a cheers, taking a short breather before getting back to work.

 

Once all the large pieces of furniture had been put into place and re-arranged, it became a case of moving the smaller things around then, to fit their new assigned areas. Mingyu was busy putting all the mats and rugs and softer furniture where Seokmin had asked, as Seokmin focused on re-arranging his noticeboard wall, and the new art wall. Seungcheol and Wonwoo had helped a little too; Seungcheol carefully held the papers in his mouth that Seokmin was sticking back up onto the walls, and Wonwoo helped Mingyu with the soft mats, and pushing the childrens chairs into place at the tables.

 

All in all, it didn't take them too long, Mingyu thought, as he and Seokmin stopped to observe the finished result. “I can't believe how much bigger the room suddenly looks now?” Seokmin said, sounding a little amazed. It wasn't the largest of classrooms, but then he didn't have a very big kindergarten class in the first place, and yet somehow they had managed to maximise the floor and wall space on offer to him. “Thanks so much for your help!”

 

Mingyu patted Seokmin on the shoulder. “Of course! I'm always happy to help.”

 

“Still, I really am grateful. I'd have made a giant mess, if I'd tried this alone.”

 

“Good thing you invited me then, expert mess maker _and_ mess cleaner!”

 

“Exactly,” Seokmin agreed with a laugh.

 

“Do you want to go get something to eat?”

 

Seokmin looked comically relieved at the question. “Oh thank god you asked, yes! I'm starving. I might die soon. Yes, let's eat.”

 

After one last look around the room, making sure everything was neatly and properly in its place, and Seokmin making sure that it was all kid-friendly and safe still, they left. Having been indoors and warm from all the moving around, Mingyu had forgotten how _cold_ it was outside, as late November blasted them with an icy-air reminder, when they stepped outside.

 

He could hear Wonwoo chattering, walking along beside him, and Mingyu tugged his coat closer around himself.

 

They decided on fried chicken for dinner, and Mingyu led them towards a place that wasn't too far, that he knew was good. It was warm as well, when they stepped inside. Both he and Seokmin let out a grateful groan, as warm air surrounded them. Even though they'd only been outside in the cold for less than twenty minutes, they'd complained about it non-stop on the walk over.

 

By the time they were busy consuming far too much food between them both, it felt almost natural now, to be spending time with Seokmin, without Minghao there. Somewhere between re-arranging furniture, stubbing his toe too many times on tables and bookshelves, and laughing over terrible jokes with Seokmin, it had become natural.

 

“So,” Seokmin said, halfway through their consumption of way too much chicken. “Did you always want to be a chef? What were little Mingyu's ambitions?”

 

Mingyu laughed, surprised by the question. He had to swallow the mouthful of beer he'd had, before he could answer. “That's a strange question to ask out of nowhere?”

 

Seokmin shrugged, his smile turning a little shy. “I'm just trying to get to know you a little better. Also, I'm curious!”

 

Not that Mingyu minded at all. He was open and honest, and as his mother had said about him before, he'd never been much of one for secrets. “Well, I really wanted to be an astronaut, or a firefighter, when I was a kid.”

 

Seokmin's eyes widened. “Oh! How brave.”

 

Mingyu laughed. “I grew out of those ideas pretty fast, though. Especially when I realised I was too clumsy to go into space.”

 

“You'd have been terrible,” Wonwoo agreed, throwing in his own few won. “Could you imagine?”

 

Mingyu made a face, as Seokmin laughed.

 

“So, chef was the safer option?”

 

“Yeah. I like it, though. I'm happy. I might want to open my own restaurant one day, but this is good right now. What about you?” He asked, picking up another piece of chicken. “Did you always want to be a teacher?”

 

Seokmin shook his head. “I really wanted to be a singer, or a comedian, for awhile,” he admitted. His smile looked a little sheepish, as if they were silly dreams to have.

 

“Why not a singing comedian?” Mingyu joked.

 

Seokmin let out what was almost a bark of laughter. “Ah, I wish I'd thought of that! I missed a trick, there,” he shook his head, pretending to look sad. It didn't last for long, it seemed impossible, Mingyu thought, for Seokmin to not have some kind of smile grace his face for any length of time. They came so easily to him, and he gave them so freely. “I wanted to be a teacher part way through school, though. It just struck me as something I could do? That would make a difference in people's lives. Even if it's small.”

 

“Oh, wow,” Mingyu said. “That's really admirable.”

 

Seokmin shook his head, seeming a little embarrassed now. “No, no. Not really,” he insisted.

 

Seungcheol, sitting next to Seokmin's chair, piped up. “It is, though,” he insisted. “Don't put yourself down.”

 

“He's right,” Mingyu agreed. He offered Seokmin a smile, when he eventually met Mingyu's gaze again.

 

“Thanks.” It was sincere, even if he still sounded a little embarrassed.

 

Seokmin turned the conversation towards other things then, away from himself, and they fell back into an easy conversation. It somehow came about that the both of them had a soft spot for watching dramas, and Mingyu found himself accidentally admitting to trying to keep up with that one he'd seen a few episodes of recently.

 

“Oh! Oh, I love that one!” Seokmin said excitedly. “I've been watching it too, it's so good!”

 

And from there, Mingyu found himself somehow, though he didn't really know how, agreeing to watching all of the episodes from the beginning with Seokmin, so that he could properly appreciate the story being told – Seokmin's words.

 

“Alright, alright. We'll do it on Sunday or something then, if you want.” Mingyu gave in with a laugh.

 

Seokmin looked excited. “Yes! You won't regret it, I swear. It's great.”

 

The rest of their evening was spent eating, drinking, and laughing far too much on their ever filling bellies, and by the end of it, Mingyu felt as if he and Seokmin had been friends and known each other for much longer than just the past couple of months. He was easy company to be around.  
  


**  
  


“Sorry about this,” Seokmin said, apologising for what had to be the twentieth time in about ten minutes. He glanced aside at Mingyu, a sheepish smile on his face. On Seokmin's other side, Seungcheol's tail wagged half-heartedly.

 

“It's fine, don't worry about it,” Mingyu assured him, also for the twentieth time. He gave Seokmin what he thought was his biggest, most sincere smile, - all teeth - in an effort to allay his fears.

 

“I should have planned a little better, though. I didn't even think about it!”

 

“Honestly, don't even worry about it. Half the time my kitchen's not stocked with food either. No big deal.”

 

Seokmin threw him a grateful smile, before they crossed the street at the lights, and turned the corner. There was a steady decline as they made their way down the hill, towards the nearest convenience store. “We'll stock up on plenty to eat, though.”

 

It was a Sunday a week later than they had originally planned; Mingyu had ended up needing to go into work the week before, but here he was now, about to buy snacks for a full afternoon and evening ahead of binge watching some television with Seokmin. It was kind of endearing, really, the nervous but excited energy he could feel around Seokmin, as they walked and talked. Mingyu was looking forward to it, though. It'd be fun, he was sure.

 

Luckily, the convenience store wasn't really far away from Seokmin's apartment, because there was a real bite to the air that day, as it swirled coldly around them both. Mingyu looked up at the sky, at the white, low hanging clouds. “I bet it's going to snow soon.”

 

Seokmin looked up at the sky briefly, before shaking his head. “There wasn't any forecast ‘til next week, I thought? Oh, here we are!” He tapped Mingyu on the arm, before leading him into the store.

 

It didn't take them long to pick up an excessive amount of snacks, drinks, and food, and when they stepped out twenty minutes later it was with bags heavy and almost bursting with all their goods.

 

“Well, it's an important part of binge-watching TV culture,” Seokmin had said, at the sight of their growing pile of food in the basket. “You eat way too much, and watch way too much.”

 

Wonwoo and Seungcheol had merely looked at them both, mildly disgusted, at the idea of all that food being consumed within the course of a day.

 

They were beginning the walk up the hill this time – and Mingyu could feel it a little in his calves – each with a bag in hand, when Mingyu felt the cold kiss of snow against his cheek.

 

“Oh!” Wonwoo said, letting out a soft sound of surprise. “Snow!”

 

“I told you!” Mingyu said, turning to look at Seokmin, a wide grin spreading across his face. They'd both come to a stop right there on the street, just taking a moment to enjoy the first snowfall of the year. “Here, take a picture of me?” Mingyu said, putting his bag down, and pulling his phone out. He swiped it open, before handing it to Seokmin.

 

It took fifteen minutes for Mingyu to find the pose he wanted, to properly convey his awe and inspiration in the snow, and for Seokmin to take the actual picture.

 

“Gyu,” Seokmin whined, as the phones camera _clicked_ audibly, another photo taken. “My fingers are going to freeze off!”

 

“Okay, okay,” Mingyu said, pouting a little as he came back over towards Seokmin. He took the phone, and felt, in that brief exchange, just how cold Seokmin's fingers actually were. “Here, let me take a picture of you quick. Then, I swear I'm done!” He added quickly, offering Seokmin what he thought was a charming smile.

 

“Just quickly,” Seokmin agreed, giving in.

 

It took another five minutes for Mingyu to be satisfied with that, though Seokmin's face photographed really well, he noticed. He'd remember that for later. “Okay, and one together. Look, we have to commemorate the first snow, don't we?” Mingyu said, trying to placate Seokmin. So it was the first picture they took together, snow falling around them, as Seokmin pouted, and Mingyu laughed. The second picture was more normal, though.

 

“Aren't you into this, anyway?” Mingyu asked, after the sudden photoshoot was over, and both he and Seokmin had picked their bags back up, continuing their way up the hill. “It's always a really romantic thing, in dramas. Couples experiencing the first snowfall together.”

 

“Mm, but, it's a bit cold.”

 

“Let's get back then, and warm up.”

 

The rest of the day was spent in indulging in what had to have been the laziest Sunday that Mingyu had allowed himself in a long time. As time passed, they went from sitting on Seokmin's – hideous, but comfortable, Mingyu had to admit – couch properly, but as each episode went by and they got more into it, they found themselves settling more comfortably, too. At some point, and Mingyu couldn't even remember how it had happened really, Seokmin's legs ended up resting across Mingyu's legs, as they lounged, halfway through the episodes that had aired so far. There was a lot of snack debris, scattered across the harsh battlefield of Seokmin's small coffee table – Mingyu had assured him, he'd make sure the place was clean before he left, despite Seokmin's protest that guests didn't have to clean up.

 

“I'm spending almost the entire day here, eating your food and using your couch,” Mingyu had replied, his teeth showing as he grinned over at Seokmin. “I don't think I count as a guest today.”

 

Wonwoo had, wisely, advised Seokmin not to argue, and to entirely take advantage of Mingyu while he was there, which had made Seokmin laugh in response.

 

They'd reached an episode that featured a prominent turning point in the story, and the characters journeys, Mingyu thought, because while the main actress had finally confessed her feelings to the leading man, he in turn had just pushed her feelings aside, and rejected her. It was a very emotional scene, Mingyu found, with the sad, swelling music, and the slow, repeating shots of the moment she said _'I love you',_ and then again, the moment where he turned her down.

 

He heard a quiet, sniffling sound, and turned to see that Seokmin seemed to have tears running down his cheeks.

 

“Are you...are you, crying?” Mingyu asked, surprised. Seungcheol, who was settled in his little bed, not far away, had his head buried sadly beneath his paws.

 

Mingyu looked over at Wonwoo, who looked back at him, feeling equally surprised.

 

Seokmin let out a soft – for him, anyway – sheepish laugh, reaching up with one hand to wipe at his damp cheeks. He looked over in Mingyu's direction, though he didn't quite meet Mingyu's gaze. “No,” he insisted, even though it was obvious now. Around them, the music grew, a haunting melody designed to tug at the heartstrings. The currently fated couple stood there, staring at each other, frozen in a moment of time, as snow fell around them.

 

“It's just...” Seokmin started again, waving one hand in the direction of the drama. “It's so sad! We _know_ he loves her too! But because of his tragic past, he thinks it'll only hurt her more, if he's in her life.” He let out another sniffle, and wiped quickly at his nose. “He doesn't realise that they would both be so much happier if he just let himself love her!”

 

Mingyu couldn't help it, and he started laughing. Not in a mocking way, he certainly wasn't laughing _at_ Seokmin, not maliciously. He was just so struck by the moment, how it was both ridiculous – the drama itself was, anyway, even if he was enjoying it – but Seokmin was so caught up in the characters and the story, that to start crying from it...something about that just endeared Seokmin to Mingyu, in such a strong, and strange way. The only way he could deal with how he was suddenly feeling was to laugh.

 

Seokmin looked over at him, an unsure smile on his face. “You know how ridiculous that sounds, right?” Mingyu said, still smiling in his amusement.

 

Seokmin ducked his head, avoiding Mingyu's eyes. “Okay, yeah. The actual storyline is a bit silly,” he admitted. “But the emotions aren't. It's just...” he shrugged his shoulders, and his face crinkled into what Mingyu had begun to recognise as Seokmin's embarrassed smile – it was very different from his usual smile, he'd learnt. “It makes me sad, that they're struggling and can't be together.”

 

The ending credits were playing then, moments from earlier in the episode flashing across the screen, shortly followed by a preview of what was to come in the next episode.

 

“It's very sweet,” Mingyu found himself saying, smiling over at Seokmin, “that you're crying over this fictional couples relationship. Just for your sake, I hope they get together eventually.” He was teasing, and it was obvious, and Seokmin laughed in response.

 

He leaned forward, reaching out to hit Mingyu lightly on the shoulder. “Thanks. They will, though. They have to have a happy ending.”

 

“For your sake, I hope so!”

 

They had two more episodes to go, before Mingyu was all caught up, and as the drama and the emotional tension began to build between the two leading characters, Mingyu caught Seokmin looking a little teary eyed again.

 

“I'm soft-hearted, okay?” Seokmin said in his defense, though he was laughing at himself too.

 

For the rest of the day, though it seemed to melt quickly into the evening, Mingyu found his mind wandering back to that thought; how Seokmin could be moved to tears by the smallest thing. It was another side he'd learnt about his friend. And, it was adorable, really.  
  


**

  


“Oh, hey, did you start painting again?” Minghao was sprawled comfortably across Mingyu's couch as if it were his own, phone in hand as he played some word game, Mingyu cleaning up around him.

 

“Hm?” Mingyu's eyes wandered over to where Minghao was looking. He'd forgotten that he'd left the half-finished painting out, actually. He smiled, feeling a little embarrassed. It was rough, Mingyu thought, but he'd been working on painting a scene of a half-lit street in twilight, snow seen falling in the dim light cast from a street lamp. It was nowhere near done yet, and not at all close to what he'd been trying to express, which was a sense of romance and mystery, during the first snow.

 

“I haven't seen you paint in ages.” Minghao's eyes moved from the painting to Mingyu, holding him in his gaze for a moment, before looking back at the painting again. “It's really good, Gyu.”

 

It was said so sincerely, that Mingyu found himself feeling unusually self-conscious, all of a sudden. He never really used to feel like that, about his art or his photography, but then, it had been awhile, and he still felt rusty and awkward. It was hard, trying to fit himself back into something, when it seemed the shape of it had changed in his absence. Or maybe that was just the self-consciousness speaking.

 

“Thanks,” he said, meaning it. “It's not finished yet though.”

 

“I saw that other one,” Minghao said, shifting a little now, pointing in the direction of a small, finished painting, that Mingyu had hung up on the wall only recently. “Is that yours too?”

 

The painting itself was full of small, colourful houses, as they marched their way up the side of a mountain, like a staircase of colourful blocks leading to the top. It was probably too bright and vibrant, really, but that one had been Mingyu's first attempt at getting back into it, and he'd felt a certain kind of catharsis, as he'd played with all the bright colours. It was supposed to be a reminder to himself, which was why he'd hung it up on the wall recently.

 

“Yeah, it is.”

 

“is that from when you went to Busan?”

 

“Yeah! The day out there's actually what kind of...kickstarted the spark again, I guess?”

 

Minghao nodded in understanding, before settling back into the couch again, phone still in hand. “It's really good. I'm glad you're painting again.”

 

Mingyu, picking up some trash that had somehow made its way onto his floor, found himself almost blushing at the compliment, and the sentiment behind it. “Yeah, so am I,” he admitted.

 

After the living room felt sufficiently tidy again, and Mingyu had made them both something to eat – just ramyeon tonight, because Mingyu couldn't be bothered to cook anything fancier – his phone went off a couple of times, an obnoxious notification sound making it impossible to ignore.

 

Minghao raised an eyebrow. “Seokmin?”

 

Mingyu looked at his phone, saw who the messages were from, and then looked up at Minghao, eyes wide with surprise. Then, narrowing into suspicion, he asked, “how did you know? Are you psychic?”

 

Minghao laughed. “A good guess.” It was all he said for a few moments, as he enjoyed a couple of mouthfuls of his noodles. He didn't speak up again until Mingyu had replied to the messages, and put his phone back down. “You two are really getting on well though, aren't you?” He glanced aside at Mingyu, before looking away again. Hansol, with his head resting across Minghao's legs, was watching with quiet interest.

 

“I mean, I guess so?” Mingyu said, surprised by the question. “I'd say he's become a good friend, over the past couple months. Why?”

 

“I just figured you guys must be spending quite a lot of time together lately. Seokmin's been mentioning you at work a lot. He's been all _'oh, me and Mingyu did this'_ and _'Mingyu thinks so too!'_ And stuff like that lately.”

 

Mingyu didn't quite know why, but he felt a warm pleasure spread through him, at the thought that Seokmin talked about him to Minghao like that.

 

“That's nice,” he commented, a slightly goofy smile on his face. “That he says nice things about me at work.”

 

Minghao let out a loud, amused laugh. “I didn't say he said _nice_ things about you. Just that he talks about you a lot.”

 

The smile that had been on Mingyu's face turned instantly into a pout, and the sight of it made Minghao laugh again. “You're a terrible friend. Why are you so mean?”

 

Minghao grinned, a little smug, as he dug into his noodles again.

 

Mingyu looked over to Wonwoo for help, and Wonwoo just shook his head, tail fluttering lightly in his version of a shrug.

 

His phone went off again then, and Minghao sent Mingyu an almost accusatory look. A glance at his phone showed that it wasn't Seokmin this time, however, making Mingyu crow loudly, feeling victorious – though really, there was no victory to be had.

 

“It's Seungkwan!” He said, gleefully, holding his phone up in front of Minghao's face. “See, I do have other friends too.”

 

“I never said you didn't,” Minghao said, rolling his eyes.

 

“You implied it,” Mingyu insisted. He set his phone back down – he'd reply when he was done eating, he thought. “Better friends than you, anyhow.”

 

“I've been your friend for eleven years now,” Minghao pointed out. “No one's a better friend than me. No one else could put up with you for so long.”

 

“He has a point,” was Hansol's valued input into the conversation. Wonwoo let out a short, huff of air that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.

 

“You're all ganging up on me,” Mingyu all but whined, face slipping into a pout again.

 

“Yes, we are,” Minghao agreed. “Also, you're spilling your soup.”

 

Mingyu looked down at the floor, to see some of the soup from his ramyeon splashed across the wooden floorboards. “Shit,” he said, looking sadly at the mess. “Even my food's ganging up on me now.”

 

“What a hard life you lead.”

  


**  
  


“You're not liking any of this, are you?” Seokmin sent a knowing look at Mingyu, who looked back at him, and shrugged, an apologetic smile on his face.

 

“Sorry?”

 

Mingyu had taken – not _dragged_ , he'd asked, and nicely too – Seokmin shopping with him that day, because he'd felt like it. Except Mingyu had seen many things, none of which he wanted. And Seokmin had seen a lot of things he would have liked, but didn't need, so neither of them had bought anything so far.

 

“It's okay,” Seokmin said, smiling easily. Both Seungcheol and Wonwoo were following behind them, talking quietly to each other, not interested in what their human counterparts were doing just then. They got along well, Mingyu thought to himself, not that it was a surprise, since he and Seokmin had become such good friends, too.

 

Mingyu felt an elbow nudging gently at his side, and turned to be met with Seokmin's smile – though a softer version of his usual million watts.

 

“Why don't we take a break?” He suggested. “Sit down, have a coffee or something?”

 

They were walking down the street, bundled up in coats and scarves, their breath showing in the air every time they breathed out. Going inside and drinking something hot sounded like heaven to Mingyu, just then.

 

“Yeah,” he agreed, nodding. “That's a good idea. I'm freezing!”

 

Seokmin chuckled. “Me too.”

 

There was a cafe just at the end of the street they were on, so they decided that would work well enough. The sooner they could get out of the cold, the better.

 

Mingyu was reaching out, about to push open the large glass door, when someone from inside pushed it open. For once, Mingyu seemed to possess enough foresight to avoid a collision – a miracle for him, really – and he stepped back and out of the way. He heard sounds of surprise from behind him, Seokmin and Seungcheol caught off guard by his sudden backing up, no doubt.

 

“Sorry,” Mingyu said, inclining his head at the person he'd nearly walked into.

 

“Mingyu?” A distantly familiar voice said. “Kim Mingyu?”

 

Mingyu felt a shock go through him, seeing the face to match that voice, one he hadn't expected to see, in all honesty.

 

It was weird, he thought, as the moment itself seemed to slow down around him. The first few weeks, months even, after the breakup, Mingyu had worried about running into him unexpectedly. He'd avoided places they'd considered 'theirs', favourite cafes and restaurants, to lessen the chances, as well. But Mingyu hadn't run into him, hadn't even seen him from a distance, and as the months slowly slid by, and Mingyu had grown and healed and found other things in life to occupy himself, he'd stopped worrying about it. Had stopped thinking about it at all, honestly.

 

Just his luck, it seemed, that now he was no longer anxious about it, it finally happened.

 

And yet, it didn't feel as awful as he'd expected. He was left a little short of breath, taken by surprise, but it wasn't punch-in-the-gut pain, as he'd always imagined.

 

“Oh,” he said, a little stiff with surprise. “Taejoon. Hi.”

 

Wonwoo had immediately stepped out in front of Mingyu, not threatening, but wary. Taejoon's own spirit was nestled on his shoulder, watching quietly.

 

“Been a long time,” Taejoon said. What was once a familiar smile now had an awkward twist to it. Mingyu didn't know how he was supposed to feel. “You look good. Is this your boyfriend?”

 

Mingyu glanced over his shoulder at Seokmin, who had taken a step back at seeing this sudden meeting, and was waiting patiently. Seungcheol's ears were perked forward, listening.

 

Looking back over at Taejoon, Mingyu shook his head. “This is my friend, Seokmin.”

 

“Nice to meet you,” Taejoon said, inclining his head a little, before turning his attention back to Mingyu. He shifted his weight from one leg to the other, and Mingyu was a little relieved to see that Taejoon must have felt the awkwardness that filled the space between them. “I'm seeing someone, now.”

 

“Oh?” Mingyu was surprised, but really, he found himself more astonished by the fact that this news didn't hurt him. Not as he'd expected it would. “That's great. Good for you.” It sounded awkward, but he meant it sincerely enough. He gestured at himself and back at Seokmin, about to open his mouth and make his excuses, when Taejoon spoke again.

 

“You're busy, of course. Sorry. Are you going in?”

 

Mingyu shook his head. “No, but we have somewhere to be.”

 

There was a look of confusion on Taejoon's face – Mingyu had clearly been about to open the cafe door, before he had come out of it, but decided to say nothing.

 

“Okay. Well, it was good to see you.”

 

Mingyu offered a smile, and he knew it wasn't a real one, but it was the best he could do in the moment. “Yeah. You too.”

 

He looked back at Seokmin, and mutual understanding seemed to pass between them in that moment; they headed off together, in the opposite direction from Taejoon.

 

“Are you okay?” Seokmin asked, after some minutes – and some distance – had passed. Seungcheol was hovering closely beside Wonwoo, looking concerned. He nudged at Wonwoo’s small body with his nose, and the little sense of comfort rippled its way through Mingyu, too.

 

Mingyu nodded, and the smile he gave Seokmin was real this time, if a little weak. “Yeah. That was just...that was my ex-boyfriend. It's the first time I've seen him since we broke up.”

 

“Oh.” A look of understanding passed over Seokmin's face, and Mingyu found himself wondering what Minghao might have told him, about it all. “Do you still wanna go somewhere?”

 

“Yeah, just...not there.”

 

They walked some ways before they found a cafe that looked to have empty seats, and seemed far enough away for Mingyu's own comfort. Just in time, too, because snow had started to fall softly around them. A small bell jingled as Seokmin pushed open the door, and warm air enveloped them, helping to take some of the chill away.

 

It wasn't until they were settled down in some comfortable seats, hot drinks in front of them both, that Mingyu realised where they had come to. He let out a laugh, at noticing all the chintzy, cutesy duck paraphernalia adorning the walls and the shelves. It suddenly made sense, why most of the people who were in there were small groups of teenage girls, he thought.

 

“I've never been here before,” Seokmin said, looking around at the place. “It's cute. Although,” he looked back at Mingyu, and gestured with one hand at a bookshelf behind him, “I think that plush is eyeing me up. It's a bit weird.”

 

Mingyu looked over Seokmin's head, and saw that there was, in fact, a large duck plush on the bookshelf behind him, and it did seem to be looking over at them, possibly with an evil, plush-duck eye.

 

He laughed, meeting Seokmin's gaze again. “Don't worry, I'll keep an eye on it. I'll make sure it doesn't get you.”

 

Seokmin beamed – too wide a smile for such a silly joke, it seemed. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

 

They sipped slowly at their drinks, mostly in the hopes that they would be cool enough to drink yet, and disappointed every time, and once conversation had passed about the choice of cafe – Mingyu had explained the time he'd brought Minghao here – Seokmin steered the conversation back to the reason they were here in the first place.

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked, looking a little nervous, as if it wasn't his place.

 

“You don't want to hear about my stupid ex,” Mingyu said, and he'd been trying to joke, but it fell a little flat. He could feel Wonwoo reach out with one paw, and tap at his ankle a couple of times, offering comfort.

 

Seungcheol, laying on the floor beside their table, let out a soft, very dog-like whine.

 

“I want to hear anything you want to talk about.” Seokmin's face was serious, and Mingyu realised then, that it wasn't often Seokmin wasn't wearing a smile of some kind, or laughing, or just looking easy and relaxed and happy. The expression on his face now was serious, but felt kindly patient, as well. “How are you feeling? That must have been weird.”

 

Mingyu decided to take him at his word, and let out a long sigh. “Yeah, really weird,” he admitted. “It's been almost a year, since we broke up. And I haven't seen him since.”

 

“Really?” Seokmin asked, sounding surprised.

 

Mingyu nodded. “Yeah. The night we broke up, I took everything I could carry, and went to Minghao's. He let me crash on his couch until I found a place of my own. Everything I left behind I decided I didn't want, anyway, so I never went back there.” His fingers had begun to fiddle with one of the napkins on the table, and his gaze had shifted to nowhere in particular, as he spoke. It was weird, bringing up some of these old memories now. But they didn't hurt the same way, that they had closer to the time. A soft ache, maybe, instead of the open wound they had once been.

 

“I guess I'd just been lucky, too, not to run into him before now.”

 

“It sounds like it was rough?”

 

“Yeah, it was.” Mingyu looked back at Seokmin again, and tried to smile. “But the weird part is, I feel okay?” He saw the way Seokmin's eyebrows creased together. “It didn't hurt like I thought it would, running into him again. It was strange, and awkward, and I didn't really want to talk to him,” Mingyu continued, the napkin twisting still between his fingers. “But emotionally, I feel okay. Like I will be okay, too.”

 

Seokmin smiled softly across the table at him. “That's good. I'm glad you feel okay.”

 

Their drinks were cool enough to drink now, and Mingyu let go of the rumpled napkin, picking his glass up instead. He'd ordered a hot chocolate, and the silky warmth of the drink soothed him, it felt, from the inside out. Helped warm the chill from his bones, and fill in the spaces of his emotions.

 

“It's hard, when a relationship ends badly like that.”

 

Seungcheol lifted his head, briefly, to gaze up at Seokmin, before settling back onto his outstretched paws.

 

“You sound like you're talking from experience?”

 

Seokmin shrugged a little, and now he looked embarrassed, as if he hadn't meant to say anything, really. “I think most people have had at least one bad experience, right?”

 

Something began to bubble, gently, within Mingyu, a possible sense of outrage beginning, at the idea of someone treating Seokmin poorly. “I don't believe it though,” he said, and now he was trying to inject a bit more lightness into his tone, teasing again. “Who could be mean to you?”

 

Seokmin let out a short laugh.

 

Mingyu continued, though. “I mean it. You're so kind. It's like...like hurting a puppy, or something. Who would do that?”

 

Shifting in his seat, Seokmin laughed, though he didn't quite meet Mingyu's gaze, as he looked over at him. “There's always someone. It's no big deal now, it was years ago and I learnt from it.”

 

“What happened?” Mingyu asked the question, curious, before he realised that it might not have been appropriate to ask.

 

Seokmin didn't seem to mind though. It reminded Mingyu a little of himself, in a way, how open Seokmin was, not a man of mysteries and secrets.

 

“Oh, just a loser who cheated on me.”

 

Mingyu whistled at that. “You make it sound like no big deal?”

 

Sipping at his drink, Seokmin gave half a shrug. “It was at the time, I guess. But like I said, a long time ago, and I learnt from it. I've had better relationships since, which helped show what a loser the guy actually was, in retrospect.”

 

“Huh.” Mingyu was, admittedly, impressed, and a little jealous, how easily Seokmin spoke about it. He'd spent nearly a year now, learning how to be alone again, how to be himself, and healing, and yet still there could be moments where he felt the soft ache of memories, within his heart. He hoped one day, he could be in the place that Seokmin was, about it all.

 

“Anyway,” Seokmin said. “I'm glad you're feeling alright. That still couldn't have been easy for you.”

 

From there, the conversation shifted into topics a little less heavy, and Seokmin, to make Mingyu laugh, asked if the plush duck behind him had changed positions, or looked more murderous now.

 

“Are you going to be scared of ducks now?” Mingyu teased, laughing.

 

Seokmin joined in, shaking his head. “If I am, I know who to blame for it!”

 

“If you are, I'll find a way to make it up to you.”

 

“I'm going to hold you to that,” Seokmin warned, smile wide as it spread across his face.

 

Mingyu didn't mind.  
  


**  
  


Mingyu wasn't sure exactly whose idea it was, just that he'd been told to bring all his friends along, and Seokmin would bring his. So he was spending his New Year's Eve in a bar, with all of his own friends – Minghao, Chan, and Seungkwan – along with Seokmin, and his own friends, who Mingyu had only just met. He'd heard a little from Seokmin about his own friends, and had been interested in meeting them. Getting drunk together on the last day of 2017 seemed like a perfect time, then, to finally meet Joshua and Jihoon.

 

Joshua, Mingyu had thought, was sweet and soft-spoken, and seemed to be a good friend to Seokmin. His spirit was a beautiful red-winged fairywren named Soonyoung, who liked to perch on Joshua's shoulder, and loudly trill his own opinions into whatever conversation was happening at the time.

 

Despite the initial kind and soft impression, Mingyu had learnt something about Joshua upon first meeting him. They'd joked about hearing of each other from Seokmin, and Mingyu had said something about how nice Seokmin was. Then Joshua had smiled, and said “Oh, I didn't say he said _nice_ things about you.”

 

It was said with such a straight face, that Mingyu had only been able to blink in surprise, processing, before Joshua had let out a soft laugh. Soonyoung had twittered loudly in amusement, from Joshua's shoulder. It reminded him of Minghao, and suddenly, Joshua seemed much less sweet to him, but definitely funny.

 

That alone seemed enough to break the ice between them. Jihoon was slightly different. Quieter, for sure, although his spirit, a red panda called Junhui, was doing plenty of socialising in his stead; Junhui would run from spirit to spirit, and person to person, greeting them all and chattering away softly.

 

Mingyu had tried to joke with Jihoon, who had barely cracked a smile in response.

 

“Tough nut?” Mingyu had asked Seokmin after, nodding in Jihoon's direction.

 

Seokmin looked over, seeing Jihoon leaning in to speak with Joshua, and laughed. “A little. He's nice when you get to know him. Just don't mention his height.”

 

“Noted.”

 

They'd managed to take over a rather large table at the bar, in order to fit all of them around it. Mingyu realised that this was the first time, probably since college, that he'd actually socialised with such a large group of people. It was nice, though, and he was happy enough to now consider Joshua and Jihoon as friends, as well – whether or not they wanted to consider Mingyu as a friend in return, they had no choice in the matter.

 

An hour passed by easily, with drinks being consumed, and conversations shared between them all. There was music playing in the background, a mixture of Western music and more local fare, it seemed, but Mingyu could barely hear it over the noise at their table. They were definitely the loudest people in the bar, though none of them seemed to notice, or care enough, to do anything about it. The end of the year was swiftly barrelling towards them all, so spirits were high – in all senses of the word.

 

Mingyu found himself sitting next to Seokmin for the majority of the evening, and the more they drank, the sillier, and the friendlier, they seemed to become. He had an arm slung easily, casually, over Seokmin's shoulder, and he could feel as Seokmin all but leaned into Mingyu's space, without thought.

 

“What are your plans for the new year?” Mingyu asked, his lisp more pronounced as the words slipped around his tongue, loosened by the alcohol.

 

“What?” Seokmin's eyebrows creased together in a frown, and he shook his head a little, clearly uncomprehending.

 

They both leaned in a little closer. “What are your plans for the new year?” Mingyu asked again, trying to pitch his voice louder.

 

Seokmin jumped a little – too loud, then, Mingyu thought. Then his face eased into a smile, understanding and hearing him now. “I don't know? Maybe I'll try to go somewhere fun, or do something interesting?” He shrugged a little. “I haven't thought about it yet! What about you?”

 

Mingyu considered the question, only briefly, before replying. “Maybe I'll meet someone!”

 

He wasn't thinking about it tonight, and it was honestly the furthest thing from his mind just then, but eleven months had made their way past Mingyu, and the thought of meeting someone, of dating again, of falling in love, wasn't nearly as scary or painful now as it had been all that time ago. So, why not.

 

Seokmin smiled, and gave Mingyu's leg a pat. “I'm sure you will! Someone great, I hope. They better treat you well!”

 

As Mingyu looked at Seokmin's grinning face, he was struck by a sudden realisation, and as he was wont to do, it came out almost immediately, before Mingyu could really think about it. “You know, you have a really great smile.”

 

It was, Mingyu thought, the most arresting smile he had ever seen. There was something so beautiful about the way Seokmin's mouth curved across his face, how his eyes all but disappeared, and Mingyu was sure, in that moment, that one could feel the warmth radiating outwards, like the sun.

 

He was drunk, and he was silly, and he could feel his own lips spreading out into a lopsided grin in return.

 

“You know,” Seokmin said, and he was trying to sound serious, but it was ruined by the smile that just wouldn't leave his face, “I've been told that before!” He let out a small laugh, joking around.

 

“It's true though!” Mingyu insisted. “I mean it.”

 

“Can you hear these lovebirds over here?” Seungkwan's voice cut loudly through their moment, drawing more attention over towards Mingyu and Seokmin.

 

Seokmin looked over in surprise, and laughed. “What?”

 

“Something about Seokmin's smile,” Seungkwan said, filling everyone else in.

 

Mingyu glared over at Seungkwan. “What's wrong with that?” He insisted loudly. “I'm allowed to compliment my friends like that! I tell Minghao all the time how hot he looks.”

 

Minghao laughed at that, and a few other sniggers around the table could be heard. No one disagreed, though.

 

Seungkwan wasn't giving up on this teasing tact, though. “Go on then,” he challenged, “What do you like about me?”

 

He waited expectantly, looking over at Mingyu, clearly hoping for some wonderful compliment about his face or his body or something. He bat his eyelashes playfully.

 

It took a moment for Mingyu's foggy brain to come up with a good answer, but when he did, he was already grinning as he gave it. “Your perseverance in the face of death.”

 

Seungkwan's face dropped into a look of confusion. “What?”

 

Mingyu, pulling his arm from Seokmin's shoulders, stood up. “From when I kill you!” He declared, joking.

 

There was a round of laughter at the table, and Mingyu could feel Seokmin's hand, slapping at his thigh in his own amusement.

 

“At least let him live out the rest of the year,” Minghao pointed out. Seungkwan looked over at him, injured. On his shoulder, Samuel, his ferret-spirit, was giggling, clearly amused by everything.  
  
“Yeah,” Soonyoung trilled, from his perch on Joshua’s shoulder. “There’s only a couple hours of it left!”

 

“You're all the worst,” Seungkwan declared, to everyone who was laughing.

 

More time slipped by, and it seemed to speed up, the closer they drew to the end of the year – or, it sped up with the more alcohol that was consumed. The jury was still out on that one.

 

There was a loud suggestion – from Soonyoung, Mingyu thought – that they try to see the bell ringing in Jongno.

 

“Will we make it?” Minghao questioned.

 

“Let's try!”

 

No one heard Jihoon's groan of despair, as they all left the bar, trying to navigate their way towards the Bosingak Bell Pavilion before midnight.

 

“It'll be packed,” Wonwoo shouted up at Mingyu, who just shrugged a shoulder in return, before they hopped off the subway, and made their somewhat drunken, stumbling way up towards ground level as a group.

 

“We're just following along.”

 

The pavilion was full of people, and it was a squeeze – especially for the larger spirits, who couldn't reside around a neck or on a shoulder, to keep from touching other people around them, but they managed to find themselves a spot to watch from. There was a giant television screen, to watch the ringing of the bell on.

 

“At least we'll all hear it, no matter where we are,” Seokmin said with a laugh, as he glanced up at Mingyu.

 

They were all but squashed together, and both Seungcheol and Wonwoo had settled themselves between their humans feet, shielded as much as they could be from others around them.

 

The atmosphere was almost buzzing, Mingyu thought, unless that was his head, still buzzing from all the shots that he'd had back at the bar. Being outside in the chill December air wasn't doing much for his sobriety, either, because the thrill of the crowd around him, of his own energy, as it coursed through his veins, was doing much to keep his head still feeling light and floaty. He could hear his friends chatting and shouting around them, sounds that were soon swallowed by the swelling mumble of talking from the crowd of people gathered at the pavilion.

 

The rest of the night passed almost too quickly, in a swirl of happiness and laughter, as the bell rang out countless times, to signal as the new year took over from the old. They all congratulated each other on the new year, and Mingyu hugged each and every one of his friends – new and old. Jihoon had pushed him away, muttering something pleasant about murder, but Mingyu was too excited to care about little things like that, and hugged Jihoon ever harder in return.

 

As he pulled Minghao into a tight hug ( _'too tight, Gyu! I can't breathe!'_ ) he saw, over Minghao's shoulder, as Seokmin pulled Joshua into a congratulatory hug. The smile on his face hit him as the most beautiful thing he thought he'd see all year – and it had only just started.

 

When it was his turn for a hug from Seokmin, and it wasn't a sensation Mingyu was unfamiliar with, by now, he felt his head spin, as if he'd just downed one shot too many.

 

“Happy 2018!” Seokmin said, all but shouting in Mingyu's ear in his excitement.

 

“Happy New Year,” Mingyu returned, a wide, silly smile spreading across his face.

 


	7. Interlude

_Mingyu had never felt anguish quite like this before. He'd experienced pain before, of course, he'd hurt himself, and been hurt. Like the time that he'd actually broken his arm, once. And the fear that he'd felt, when he'd finally realised that he was gay, and worried that his mother wouldn't accept him or love him any longer. As short lived as that had been, because his mother was amazing, Mingyu would always be able to remember the way his heart had clenched with worry, before he'd come out. And he could still remember the aching, itching pain as his arm had healed that time, too._

 

_This was leagues away from any of the other, now seemingly smaller, instances in his life. He felt lost, confused, and so painfully alone. As he laid there in the dark, on Minghao's couch, very pointedly not sleeping, he felt even worse about the entire thing. The couple of boxes of his possessions were neatly stacked up against one of the walls in Minghao's living room too. Knowing that he was here, taking up this space in his friend's home, only added to Mingyu feeling useless and in the way._

 

_Part of himself still couldn't believe it was real. A large part of himself, of his heart, continued to hope that he'd wake up in the morning, and none of it would be real. That it hadn't happened, and that Mingyu would open his eyes, roll over onto his side, and wake up to the sight he'd been waking up to for much of the past five years of his life: his boyfriend's softly sleeping face, and his spirit, draped somewhere across his sleeping form._

 

_But for the past week, all Mingyu had woken up to – when he had actually fallen asleep for long enough to wake up – was Minghao’s ceiling, and the empty space that had been punched through his heart._

 

_He could feel the slight weight of Wonwoo's small body, as he rested up against Mingyu's legs. He offered no words of comfort, because he knew there wasn't any comfort to give, yet. Mingyu and Wonwoo were one being, and he felt this pain as acutely as Mingyu did. Their comfort was just being together, knowing each other was feeling the same. It was a small consolation._

 

_As he lay there, not sleeping, staring out into the darkness of Minghao's living room, Mingyu could feel his fingers itching, and his heart yearned to just send him a message. To ask him to take Mingyu back? To rewind time, and not let this happen? Anything._

 

_It was ironic, really, how the one person Mingyu would seek comfort from, when feeling like this, was the person who had caused it all in the first place._

 

_He almost wanted to cry._

 

_In the small hours of the night, when left on his own, no distractions and no best friend to comfort him, Mingyu's mind retraced the same, well-worn paths that it had been following that entire week. He was treading circles, but he couldn't stop himself. In the course of one day, of a single moment, really, his entire life had changed. A constant in his life had suddenly removed himself entirely, and Mingyu didn't know what to do to fill that gaping hole now._

 

_It seemed to him, that over the five years of their relationship, that he had shared pieces of himself with Taejoon. That was how Mingyu had always thought of it, anyway, as sharing; it wasn't give or take. Yet here he was, alone and haunting his friend's couch, nowhere else to go, and it felt as if now all those pieces of himself had been left behind. Where were they? Who was he? He didn't have the answers, and suddenly the idea terrified him – who was he, without Taejoon in his life? Who was Kim Mingyu, when he was on his own?_

 

_Five years was a long time to spend with another person, to be with someone, to get comfortable and happy and feel secure. And even when things had really, truly started to become more than just difficult, Mingyu had stayed. Because he was in love, and wanted to work through things. He wouldn't have been with anyone for such a long time, if he hadn't meant it seriously._

 

_And yet here he was, alone, but for Wonwoo. His heart empty and his mind aching. He'd never felt so little like himself before. He'd never felt so little in general, before._

 

_How was he supposed to continue his life and move on, when such an important part of it had removed himself?_

 

_He heard a soft, little sniffle from Wonwoo. Only then, did Mingyu feel the wetness against his cheeks._

 

_There were no soft hands to wipe them away for him. No laugh, or soothing smile. No sweet words of comfort._

 

_There was nothing._

 

_Mingyu didn't miss it this time, as the tears fell harder._

 


	8. Beginning (II)

Mingyu put down the magazine he'd been trying to read, and stared at the other end of the couch, where Wonwoo was curled up beside Mingyu's outstretched feet.

 

“What is it?” Wonwoo asked, knowing that Mingyu was thoughtful and restless.

 

The words spilled from Mingyu before he could stop them, before he could think about them, in his usual Mingyu fashion. “I think I like him?” He shook his head a little. “I mean. Seokmin. And...and I'm pretty sure. That I like him, I mean.”

 

Eloquent as always, he thought, grimacing inwardly at himself. At least it was only to Wonwoo, who was a part of him, and thus it was only like being embarrassed in front of yourself. Which Mingyu frequently was, admittedly.

 

“Really?” Wonwoo asked, though he didn't sound surprised. Of course he wasn't, really.

 

Mingyu nodded. “I haven't...I haven't felt like this in a long time. A really, really long time.”

 

He was almost buzzing with nervous energy, now that his circular thoughts had finally found their way outloud into words. It was as if he was cementing the feelings that were beginning to stir within him. Saying it aloud made it feel more real. As if Mingyu might be able to touch the sensation with his fingers, if he had a mind to.

 

But his fingers shied away before they could grasp hold of it.

 

“I don't know what I should do?”

 

Wonwoo cocked his head a little, blinking slowly across at Mingyu.

 

“What do you want to do?”

 

Instead of answering, Mingyu asked a question of his own. “Do you think he could feel the same? And like me back?”

 

Wonwoo's tail _swished_ slowly, from one side to another. “It's hard to tell. Maybe? Do you want him to?”

 

Mingyu seemed to consider the question, and properly consider it, for some time. His leg bounced lightly against the couch cushion, enough to unsettle Wonwoo and have him grumble a little. Mingyu's fingers tapped out a thoughtless pattern against his leg. Did he, he wondered?

 

This feeling, he thought, might have been creeping up on him for some time now. It hadn't really been until New Year's Eve—and Mingyu had been stinking drunk by the end of that night, so he'd still doubted himself—that he'd actually realised. There was something there, at least on his part. There could be something more there too, he thought. Almost dared to hope, even.

 

Just considering the possibility had his heart begin to tap out an excited two-step inside his chest. The more he thought about it, the more the idea really did begin to solidify. Seokmin was kind, and funny, and he always made Mingyu laugh and feel good about himself. He'd grown to become a good friend – a really good friend, he reckoned – in the months since they had met. They watched dramas and movies together, and sometimes shopped together. Mingyu cooked for him, and they liked to go drinking with Minghao after stressful days at work together.

 

But there could be more. It was a little daunting to consider, but there could be so much more. Mingyu barely allowed his mind to walk that far, but it wanted to, he thought. His mind and his heart both wanted to.

 

He looked back at Wonwoo, and slowly nodded his head. “Yeah,” he said, in answer to Wonwoo's question. “I think I want him to.”

 

It felt as if some things inside of him were slowly beginning to shift, now. Things he'd put aside, and stopped thinking about. Things that had the potential to take his breath away, if he let them.

 

And then something occurred to him, and his eyes fell to Wonwoo again, who remained lying there, large ears alert, as restless now as Mingyu was. “You knew, didn't you?” Mingyu asked. “How I was feeling.”

 

“Of course I knew. And you knew too. We're the same person.”

 

Mingyu shook his head. “But you realised, before I did. Why didn't you say anything?”

 

Wonwoo stared over at him, impassive, as the cogs began to turn inside Mingyu's mind. It took him a moment, but then he got there. “You didn't want me to realise,” he said, and now he sounded a little hurt. “Do you not want me to be happy? Us to be happy?”

 

“No!” Wonwoo said, a little forcefully. “No,” he said again, softer. “I was just worried. About what would happen, if everything went wrong again.”

 

Mingyu frowned. “But...I don't think Seokmin would do anything to hurt me? He's so kind. He works with kids for a living! He's literally the nicest person we've ever met?” His hands were moving now, trying to match the emotions that were rolling through him. “Remember that time we were sick, and he brought porridge over for us, that he'd made himself?”

 

“It was disgusting,” Wonwoo pointed out.

 

Mingyu waved a hand. “It's the thought that counts! He's pretty much the sweetest person I know. He wouldn't do anything to hurt us.”

 

Wonwoo shook his head. He stretched out one leg, paw resting lightly against Mingyu's calf. “Yeah, but you thought the same about Taejoon. We never expected it to go wrong.”

 

Frowning, Mingyu said, “Okay, that's true. But I can't...I can't just, never let myself love anyone again, in case we get hurt, you know? That's no way to live.”

 

Wonwoo let out a sigh. The restless energy was slowly sinking out of Mingyu now. He laid his face across Mingyu's leg, nuzzling briefly with his nose. “You're right,” he agreed. “Just...be a little more cautious, maybe?”

 

Mingyu stared down at him.

 

“You know,” Wonwoo continued. “Don't barrell on head first without thinking, like you usually do. We can be careful about it.”

 

“Okay,” Mingyu agreed, giving Wonwoo a short nod. “I can do that. Sure.”

 

Coiling around what had, only minutes ago, been a bright and shining light of new emotions, was now a fog of doubt. But everytime that Mingyu's thoughts drifted towards the memory of Seokmin's smile, the light shone just that little bit brighter, through the haze.

 

He could be more cautious this time around, he thought.  
  


**  
  


Except, Mingyu had never really been good at being cautious, even when he tried. Attempting to be careful was beginning to make him feel insecure and doubtful about everything. He'd brought it up to Minghao recently, that he wasn't sure he knew how to date anymore, and Minghao had had some firm, but insightful, words to say to Mingyu about it.

 

“Okay, I only want to tell you this once,” he'd said, almost sighing down the phone at Mingyu. “So listen well. You are not the problem. What happened in your last relationship, it wasn't because you didn't do enough, or you didn't love enough, you know? Sometimes things just don't work out. You can't blame yourself for how that went down, and you can't let it stop you from finding happiness in someone else.”

 

Mingyu had gaped, soundlessly, down the phone, stunned by Minghao's words, and the firm sincerity that lingered beneath each one. Their friendship was usually more teasing banter than this kind of thing, and yet when it mattered, Minghao always pulled out the wisest words Mingyu had ever heard, and always stunned him with his insight.

 

“I...”

 

Minghao had continued, his talk not yet finished. “Just be yourself. Stop thinking about it. I can't believe I'm telling _you_ this, but in this case, thinking is what's holding you back. You're charming as shit. Stupid, but charming, and people always like you. So just be yourself, alright?”

 

It had taken Mingyu some time to find his words, and he'd stumbled over them in his surprise, saying, “Thank you? And, um, excuse you?” Confused, and a little bit in awe, at how Minghao had managed to both insult him and compliment him at the same time, as well as give him the pep talk he needed.

 

The words had stuck with Mingyu. He had been overthinking it, and that had led to him thinking that he was just undateable. There was a part of himself that really, really hated how that was one of the still lingering effects of his failed relationship, even a year after it had ended.

 

The problem, aside from the fingers of his past still trying to clutch at pieces of his heart, was attempting to figure out if Seokmin might be attracted to him, too. They were good friends by now, Mingyu thought, really good friends, and he didn't really want to ruin that. But it was difficult now to tell what was friendship, and what was coloured by Mingyu's tentative hopes.

 

“There's this other one on at the moment,” Seokmin said, offering a segment of tangerine to Mingyu, as they sat together, watching the start to a new drama. “That we should really catch up with and watch,” he finished, after eating a slice for himself. “Joshua said it's meant to be really good. There's like, goblins and grim reapers and ghosts in it?”

 

Mingyu looked over at Seokmin, and laughed. “Sounds a little scary for you, doesn't it?”

 

He earned himself an elbow in the side for that. Seokmin tried to glare, but it dissolved quickly into his easy smile. “No, it's a fantasy thing, not horror! We should try it.”

 

Mingyu nodded. “Sure, whatever you want.”

 

He accepted the next piece of tangerine offered to him, and as Mingyu bit down into it, the juice spread sweetly across his tongue. Still not as sweet as Seokmin's smile was though, he thought, glancing over briefly.

 

The way his heart began to thud inside his chest, Mingyu was thinking that he might be, just a little bit, in trouble.

  


Now it was on his mind though, Mingyu couldn't help but keep trying to see if there were any hints to the possibility of more. He was never very good at that kind of thing, though.

 

Like times when they were watching dramas and television together; had Seokmin nestled his head in Mingyu's lap because he was comfortable with Mingyu, or because there were feelings now growing beneath the surface? He'd spent a good ten minutes thinking repeatedly to himself: _feelings, no feelings? Feelings, no feelings?'_ So much so that Wonwoo had reached out with one paw, to swat Mingyu wherever he could reach, to make him stop thinking. It had only helped for a couple of minutes.

 

And other such attempts at assessing feelings plagued Mingyu from there, making him wish he wasn't quite so poor at this kind of thing. Guessing was terribly tiring. He just wanted to _know_ , but something still held him back from asking outright. _Be cautious_ , he’d remember, trying to protect his newly healed heart.

 

He was just coming home, late from work after a busy night, when a text from Seokmin took him by surprise. He frowned down at his phone screen, before looking down at Wonwoo. “It's late for him,” he mumbled, only half to himself. He shed all his outerwear – coat, hat, scarf and gloves – in an unusually messy pile on the coat rack, one hand still holding the phone and reading. The message from Seokmin was asking if Mingyu wanted to go see a movie with him.

 

 **_Mingyu:_ ** _what movie?_

 

He nearly stepped on Wonwoo's tail, in his obliviousness, as he moved around the apartment, eyes still glued to his phone screen. It took bare moments it seemed before Seokmin text him back, and he let out a laugh. The message was a screenshot of the cinema listings, with the time and the date already highlighted. It looked as if Seokmin had this all planned out already.

 

Then, a thought struck Mingyu – his mind, and also his feet, to the floor. He knocked a chair over, as he stopped suddenly. Wonwoo _tsk_ ed, behind him. But Mingyu didn't pay attention to any of that. His mind was wandering a particular road, one that had his head begin to race in anticipation. A movie was perfect! It was so close to a date, perhaps Mingyu could go from there. They'd be watching a movie together, in a dark theatre, and Seokmin would probably cry. Mingyu had excellent, broad shoulders for crying on.

 

His heart began to soar, just imagining the prospects.

 

The sound of another text broke through his nebulous fantasies. Seokmin had responded to Mingyu's agreeing to go with him.

 

 **_Seokmin:_ ** _Thanks!!!_

 

There were a lot of emoji's and stickers to follow, all adorable, and Mingyu could easily picture the smile of happiness that had to be on Seokmin's face then. He wished he could see it.

 

Another message came through then.

 

 **_Seokmin:_ ** _Joshua was meant to go with me but he's sick now so he can't. So I really appreciate you saying yes!!_

 

That was enough to give Mingyu a pause, in his thoughts and his feelings. He'd meant to go with Joshua? Mingyu wasn't Seokmin's first choice?

 

He let the thought slide away again before it could form, sending Seokmin a message to assure him that he didn't mind – although joking that he might now require favours in return. He finally moved from where he'd been standing, daydreaming and texting, moving to pick up the chair he'd knocked over, before beginning to get ready for bed.

 

When he checked his phone after coming out of the bathroom, it was to find a couple more messages from Seokmin, mostly thanking Mingyu, and then one wishing him goodnight. He went to sleep that night, with the pitter-patter of joy wandering across his slowly growing heart.

 

The movie, whilst fun, hadn't been quite the date Mingyu had wanted to try to turn it into. Seokmin had cried though (and he'd laughed, but really, his heart had clenched every time he'd seen tears on Seokmin's face, it was so sweetly endearing), and they'd both come out of the cinema still singing the final song from the movie together. But Mingyu hadn't been able to get himself any closer to the potential _maybe_ that his heart was busy chasing.  
  


**  
  


“Here.” Mingyu reached across the table, trying to pass some more meat over to Seokmin. It fell from his chopsticks, missing Seokmin's bowl, landing in Seokmin's glass of water, instead. “Oops. Sorry,” Mingyu offered, smiling sheepishly, as Seokmin and Minghao just laughed at him.

 

“It's okay,” Seokmin assured. “I like my water meaty.” With a grin, he picked the glass up, and downed the whole thing, water and meat. Minghao and Mingyu both let out noises of joint amusement and disgust. “Delicious,” Seokmin said, laughing with them.

 

Mingyu, Minghao and Seokmin had gone out that evening, for food and drinks together. It was nice, Mingyu thought, because it had been a little while since the three of them had gone out together like this. The drinks were flowing that night, as the food kept coming, and the conversation wandered from one strange destination to another.

 

Somehow, they had ended up talking about flowers and gardens. Not that any of them had gardens, all living in apartments.

 

“I like to have a couple plants around the house,” Minghao said. “It's good, I think, to make sure you have something living around you too, so that you're not just surrounded by inanimate objects.”

 

Seokmin was nodding, looking at Minghao as if he'd just said something profoundly wise.

 

“I'm really bad with plants and flowers,” he said, looking between them both as he spoke. He let out a small laugh at himself. “I always forget to water them, and stuff, and I feel so guilty when they die!”

 

Mingyu had to resist the – suddenly very strong – urge to clutch at his heart and melt over Seokmin's extreme cuteness in that moment. Instead, he just laughed, and hoped it didn't sound quite as breathless as he imagined it did.

 

“I even managed to kill air plants! They barely even need water to survive!”

 

Seungcheol sat up, reaching out with one paw to pat at Seokmin's lap, in a teasing 'there there' manner. Seokmin threw his spirit a smile.

 

“It's okay,” Mingyu assured him. “I'm both extremes. I can be really, really diligent and take care of things really well. And then I can trip over a plant pot and break it, or ruin it some other way.” Seokmin gave Mingyu a grateful smile, and Mingyu had to mentally remind his heart to continue beating.

 

He covered the sudden flustered feeling that was trying to overwhelm him, by reaching out and taking more meat, and promptly stuffing it into his mouth. He couldn't see it, but he was sure he could feel Wonwoo aiming a judgmental look in his direction.

 

“You guys should see Joshua's garden,” Seokmin started. He paused, taking a sip of his soju, before continuing. His eyes moved from Minghao to Mingyu, and back again, as he spoke, voice full of enthusiasm. “It's not a proper garden, but he's got a balcony, and it's all set up for Soonyoung – you remember his spirit, right?”

 

After a moment, both Minghao and Mingyu nodded, remembering the colourful little fairywren that had spent most of their New Year's Eve night perched, noisily, on Joshua's shoulder.

 

“Yeah, so he has this, almost like a miniature paradise, set up on his balcony for Soonyoung. It's so pretty, he's got like, little trees, and all these plants and flowers, so Soonyoung can sit outside in the wildlife. And then Joshua's got this big comfy seat where he likes to read. It's such a nice little garden!”

 

Thoughts began to turn, slowly, inside Mingyu's head. He chewed on his food, contemplating.

 

“Sounds like you spend a lot of time at Joshua's place?” Mingyu found himself asking, a moment later.

 

Seokmin looked over at him, and shrugged a shoulder. “I guess? We've been friends a really long time. I spend about as much time there as I do at your place, these days!” It was said so brightly, and yet still, the wheels were turning, slowly but steadily, in the back of Mingyu's mind.

 

He was still contemplating things, trying to catch that elusive chain of thought, a couple of hours later, as he walked up the hill leading to his apartment building. It was freezing, and Mingyu had Wonwoo bundled up inside his coat with him, holding his tiny body beneath one arm.  
  
Pulling his scarf tighter around his neck, Mingyu let out a soft huff of annoyance. The bright lights of the little convenience mart he passed left glowing spots behind his eyes when he blinked. He felt weird, and out of step. As if he needed to unearth this niggle at the back of his mind, before he could regain his balance.

 

It wasn't until he had finally gotten home, changed into more comfortable, lounging clothes, and settled himself on the couch, that the thoughts finally seemed to take form, and make their way into the forefront of his mind, where Mingyu could realise them more clearly.

 

He looked over at Wonwoo who was curled up, already settled comfortably on his favourite cushion, at the other end of the couch.

 

“Seokmin's been talking about Joshua a lot lately, don't you think?”

 

“Hm?” Wonwoo looked a little confused by the question. “Not really?”

 

“No, he has,” Mingyu insisted. He had turned the television on, but the sound was low, the drone of voices a barely heard background noise, to the louder tumult inside his mind. “Like, what was that tonight, with him gushing about Joshua's garden and stuff?” He poked at the couch cushion beneath him with a finger, as if that had annoyed him too. “I could grow a beautiful garden, if I wanted to.”

 

“I'm sure you could.”

 

There was silence again, as Mingyu slipped back into his moody reverie, and Wonwoo waited patiently. Eventually, Mingyu opened his mouth again. It took a moment for his thoughts to catch up to his words, and when he did speak, it was slowly, almost haltingly, as if he didn't quite want to bring these thoughts to life. “What if...what if Seokmin is dating Joshua?”

 

The words left an unpleasant taste behind, as they fled Mingyu's mouth, and he felt a heavy weight beginning to settle inside his chest.

 

Wonwoo's large ears pricked forward, and he looked more alert than usual. “What? No way.”

 

But Mingyu continued, regardless. “I mean it,” he said. “He's talked about him loads lately. I really think they could be dating.”

 

Wonwoo shook his head. “I think you're seeing something that isn't there. They're really good friends, Gyu.”

 

“Yeah, but that happens all the time. Friends to lovers, there's a reason it's a cliché.”

 

“Seokmin would have mentioned it though, if he was seeing someone.” Wonwoo's fluffy tail flicked lazily against the couch, agitated. “He's not exactly a secretive person.”

 

This one had Mingyu a little stumped, but really, the sinking feeling inside his heart wasn't letting him hold on to any semblance of hope, even if he did want it. The thought was there now, spoken out loud, coming to life, and it had taken hold, growing now until it seemed to bloom in front of him, its brilliant colours a mockery of his own feelings. He just couldn't get the idea out of his mind. If he were the type to stop and think about things a little more, Mingyu might wonder why he was arguing this point so insistently, ensuring himself of another potentially broken heart in the process. He’d only just patched it up recently, it seemed.

 

But he wasn't that type, and this thought was the only thing that was on his mind in that moment. His eyes travelled to his knees, which he'd pulled up towards himself on the couch. His fingers plucked uselessly at a stray thread at the hem of his sweater.

 

“No, but. What if it's a new thing? They might not be far enough into a relationship yet to want to mention anything. It happens.”

 

“Gyu.” Wonwoo's voice was suddenly closer, and when Mingyu looked up, it was to see Wonwoo, his fluffy face and large ears, peeking over the tops of Mingyu's knees, at him. He had a paw resting on one of Mingyu's knees, in a comforting gesture. Wonwoo sounded serious as he spoke – more serious than he usually did, anyway. “I really, really, think that you've got this all wrong, and you're seeing something that isn't there.”

 

Wonwoo may have gone on to say more, perhaps to tell Mingyu that this might even be his way of not letting himself get into a relationship that he'd seemingly wanted, not all that long ago. That the wounds that had been made last year, were sometimes still more than just a memory. That he was avoiding letting his heart get broken again.

 

The chance didn't come to say any of that though, and the thoughts died inside Wonwoo's mind, before Mingyu could even get a sense of them.

 

Mingyu shook his head, frowning. “I'm really not. You saw his face tonight, when he was talking about Joshua. You heard how much time he spends over at his place? He's always talking about him, too! Joshua said this, Joshua did this. Joshua's favourite movie. It's too much for them just to be good friends.”

 

“But you talk about Minghao just as much, because he's your friend and he's important to you.”

 

The words seemed to go through one ear and right out the other, not staying long enough to settle in Mingyu's mind, or make a difference now in the way he was feeling. In putting his thoughts into words, he felt like he'd made them real, and now he couldn't be unconvinced that the little things he'd been seeing and hearing for awhile now, had all led to this realisation. He just wondered how long it would be before Seokmin might mention something.

 

It seemed too obvious now, in hindsight, Mingyu thought, because Seokmin had seemed particularly happy and excited in the recent weeks that they'd seen each other. In the time Mingyu had been trying to work up his courage to say something to Seokmin about his own growing feelings, it seemed almost a cosmic joke, that Seokmin had already been dating someone else. Out of reach of Mingyu's heart.

 

It wasn't until he opened his eyes then, that Mingyu realised he had even closed them in the first place. He let out a long, slow sigh, not quite meeting Wonwoo's eyes, as his spirit looked over at him, concerned. He could feel, of course, all the things Wonwoo was feeling in that moment, and it was just as jumbled as Mingyu's feelings must have been, in return.

 

“It's okay,” Mingyu said, after a time. He offered Wonwoo a weak smile, no hint of teeth. “We've done it before. We can get over someone again. It's not like I was invested yet or anything, anyway.”

 

“Gyu...” Wonwoo said, sadly.

 

Mingyu shook his head. He turned his face away from Wonwoo, and reached out to pick up the television remote. He switched the channels, turning it louder now. He couldn't help but be a little amazed at himself, though. How he'd managed to, kind of, break his own heart all over again, before even getting into a relationship. That was an impressive feat all of it's own, Mingyu thought.

 

And then he tried to stop thinking at all, and let the senseless actions of some people on the television drown out the way his heart was steadily sinking towards the floor.  
  


**  
  


February blasted its way into the year, with a bitter chill that seemed to settle right into Mingyu's very bones, set up home, and never go, leaving him chilled and hollowed out. He found himself sick for much of the first part of February, and thought it was very unfair, for someone so young and handsome and tall, to be so easily felled by the flu. The sickness kept it's grip on him, though, and seeing as his job was in the food industry, he couldn't go back to work until he was healthy again.

 

Which left Mingyu at home a lot, with Wonwoo, and his thoughts. He ended up mindlessly watching a lot of terrible television shows and movies, because when his head spun and ached and felt as if it wasn't even part of his own body, watching television was pretty much the only thing he could bear to do, other than sleep.

 

Minghao was a good comfort to him during this time, and Hansol along with him, making sure Mingyu was stocked up on food and liquids, keeping him company when he could. He could vaguely remember trying to tell Minghao off, telling him to go home so that he and Hansol didn't get sick as well. Minghao had scoffed that he didn't get sick often, so not to worry. And then Mingyu had had no more energy to worry about it, anyway.

 

But together, Minghao and Hansol took care of him and Wonwoo, and eventually the illness, although perhaps not the bitter cold, began to loosen it's fevered fingers from Mingyu.

 

“Weirdly,” Mingyu began, feeling well enough to sit up on the couch that night and eat something, for the first time in at least two weeks, with real actual flavour to it, “this feels a little like deja vu.”

 

“What do you mean?” Wonwoo asked, sleepily. He was curled up in Mingyu's lap.

 

“Not the same circumstances,” Mingyu continued, following a train of thought that Wonwoo still wasn't quite privy to understanding, and he huffed, to get Mingyu to hurry up. Mingyu laughed a little, before adding, “I just mean, the whole sort of, moping about the place, haunting the house, feeling miserable and stuff. It's not for the same reason, but,” he let out a soft laugh again, though he wasn't exactly amused, “it feels very similar to how we spent last February.”

 

Wonwoo snorted. “You think the happiest thoughts sometimes, you know that?”

 

Mingyu shrugged. He offered Wonwoo a small bite of his food; not that Wonwoo needed it, but he made a sound of delight all the same, as he chewed on a small morsel. “I can't help it. That's what's on my fevered mind tonight.”

 

“You have no fever, it's gone.”

 

“How would you know?” Mingyu asked.

 

“Because I _am_ you, dummy, and I don't have a fever,” Wonwoo shot back.

 

“Well,” Mingyu all but pouted, before taking another mouthful of food. “When you put it like that...”  
  


**  
  


“Have you fallen out with Seokmin?”

 

The question took Mingyu by surprise, and as his head shot up to look across at Minghao, his legs jerked, jostling the table with his knees.

 

“Jesus, Mingyu,” Minghao said, watching as everything wobbled on the table, briefly threatening to topple over, before settling to rights again. He let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. “Guilty much?”

 

Mingyu offered Minghao a sheepish smile. He shrugged a shoulder in a half apology. He was over his sickness now, and had been able to go back to work. Although this was one evening that Mingyu had off. And yet, he and Minghao had still navigated their way towards the same restaurant for dinner that night. Service was a little busy that evening, and Chan hadn't had a moment to do more than ask how Mingyu was doing and take their orders, before having to go off and serve other tables.

 

With Minghao's sudden line of questioning, Mingyu wondered if maybe he could offer to step in and help work.

 

Minghao fixed Mingyu with a hard stare, however, and Mingyu felt himself beginning to wither inside, as he usually did when Minghao was serious. Some things couldn't be numbed, it seemed, by any number of years friendship.

 

“You better answer his question,” Hansol advised Mingyu, sounding strangely sage, from where he was sitting on the floor, beside them. “He's got his serious face on.”

 

“Thank you, Hansol,” Minghao said, not at all meaning it.

 

“You're welcome!” Was Hansol's oblivious answer. Mingyu could hear Wonwoo, who was beneath the table, snort at the entire exchange. He was glad one of them could feel a little amused by all of this, because it certainly wasn't him.

 

“Of course I haven't,” Mingyu said, returning to Minghao's original question. “Why would you think that?”

 

Minghao's stare didn't soften. “He says you haven't really spoken to him in a couple of weeks?”

 

A flush of shame began to crawl up the back of Mingyu's neck. He was glad Minghao was in front of him, where he couldn't see it.

 

“I've been sick!” He said, voice a little too loud, waving one hand around. “I've not spoken to anyone! You can ask Chan, or anyone. I've spoken to no one in weeks!”

 

“You've been fine for the past few days now. And you've certainly text me enough, since then.”

 

Mingyu found his eyes travelling down to stare at the table in front of him, instead. He could see a burn mark, next to where his glass of water sat. He'd have to mention that to the manager at some point. Maybe.

 

It was as if someone was overlooking them in that moment, someone beyond them all, because Mingyu's phone, sitting there next to him, vibrated against the table. The screen lit up, showing the notification, and it was quite obvious – to Mingyu, and Minghao – that they could both see it was from Seokmin.

 

“Are you going to reply to that?” Minghao asked, staring hard at Mingyu. Minghao was the kind of friend who was never scared to tell a person when they were being shitty, and Mingyu knew this, had known this for a long time. But having that stare aimed at him now, he felt a part of himself sink. Even worse, was knowing that it was because of Seokmin. The idea that he'd possibly been worrying Seokmin, through trying to take care and protect his own heart, hurt Mingyu in a way that he hadn't felt for a long, long time. It made him worry that, despite his trying to distance himself and be cautious, his feelings hadn't lessened at all.

 

“Yeah,” Mingyu said, trying to sound easy and casual. “Of course. Later, it's rude to talk to someone else when I'm with you.”

 

Minghao let out a loud, almost bark, of laughter, at that. “Okay, but that's never stopped you from messaging Seokmin – or anyone – before. You're a shitty liar, Mingyu. You always have been.”

 

He could feel tension in Wonwoo now, and a quick glance under the table showed that Wonwoo's fur was beginning to bristle. Hansol watched on, quietly taking it all in – or none of it in at all, it was hard to tell sometimes what the maned wolf was thinking and feeling.

 

He let out a sigh. He still hadn't told Minghao the conclusion he'd come to, about Seokmin, and now that he thought Seokmin was far beyond his reach he definitely wasn't going to change that. But Minghao was right, and ignoring someone who was still supposed to be a friend of his _was_ a shitty thing to do.  
  
Mingyu hadn’t meant for it to happen, really. He had just been too unwell to really talk on his phone or try to look at the screen and type out coherent sentences to people (Minghao had just received a message consisting of: _hepl_ , at first, and had had to go from there). And then, somewhere between feeling sick, and his useless, fevered thoughts, Mingyu had thought that, perhaps, just not messaging Seokmin at all, for a little bit, might be a good idea.  
  
Now he could see how wrong that thinking had been.

 

Picking up his phone, Mingyu swiped it open, so he could read the messages from Seokmin. His heart clenched as he read through the increasingly worried texts he'd been sending over the past two weeks, while Mingyu had been sick. And still, despite the obvious distress that Mingyu could read between the lines of Seokmin's words, there was that thread of care and consideration that Seokmin always expressed. Asking how Mingyu was doing, hoping he was well, offering to help in any way that he could. There were a couple of selfies, too, of Seokmin and Seungcheol, offering Mingyu and Wonwoo hearts, and saying _fighting!_ to help them feel better.

 

Mingyu's mouth felt suddenly dry, and his tongue sat thick and heavy against his palate. He wondered if maybe he was actually still a little sick, because there was a heat beginning to prickle behind his eyes. Wonwoo let out a soft, little whine, feeling all these things acutely as well.

 

Minghao sat there silently, watching all of this, quietly eating his food. He leaned down every now and then, offering Hansol tasty pieces of meat that he didn't need, but enjoyed all the same. Hansol made a sound of happiness, and Minghao reached down, giving Hansol an affectionate scratch behind the ears.

 

It took Mingyu a long, few moments, to try and compose a message in response. His heart was iridium inside his chest, heavy with the weight of his feelings. He settled on apologising, as profusely as he could in a text, about being so quiet, explaining he'd been too sick to talk and type, and thanking Seokmin for all his caring messages all the same. He mentioned how he was better now, and asked how Seokmin had been, too.

 

He let out a small sigh when he set his phone back on the table, finished, but it had barely touched the surface before the screen lit up again, another message from Seokmin. This one was short and simple:

 

 **_Seokmin:_ ** _Can I call you? Please??_

 

 **_Mingyu:_ ** _I'm out with Hao right now, I'll text you when I'm home?_

 

The message that followed was a quick _'okay'_ in response, and then no more. When Mingyu looked back up at Minghao, it was to see a shrewd, assessing gaze being aimed in his direction.

 

“What?” He asked, feeling singled out, and not in a good way.

 

Minghao shrugged a shoulder, and it was such a fluid movement, it was as if he was shrugging a feeling off of his shoulders. “Nothing. Eat your food, it's getting cold.”

 

Mingyu looked down at his bowls of rice and meat, and for a moment thought that he didn't really feel like eating anymore. But then he remembered that he could always eat, and was always hungry, and dug back into his food.

  
  


There was a strange pressure, weighing heavily on Mingyu's shoulders, when he got home that evening. Minghao had left him with the wise, parting words of “Don't be a dick,” which Mingyu found still on his mind. It wasn't late, though, and Mingyu had a feeling that Seokmin would be waiting for his text still. He felt like an asshole, but it was better to get this over with, he thought. Maybe.

 

“Can I just...hide in bed, and pretend I fell asleep?” He asked, looking down at Wonwoo.

 

He got an angry swipe at his leg for that, and Wonwoo huffed at him. “Stop it. You're a grown ass man, let's act like one, okay? He's your friend, so just call him. You've done enough.”

 

Mingyu sighed, lips naturally tending towards a childish pout, as he pulled his phone out of his pocket, before tossing his jacket aside. He had second thoughts, and ran over to pick it up, and hang it instead carefully on the coat hooks by the door.

 

“Stop stalling.”

 

“Okay, okay,” Mingyu said, gesturing for Wonwoo to calm down. He sucked in a breath, and sent Seokmin a text, telling him he was home now, if Seokmin was still awake.

 

He made it barely to the count of ten before his phone started ringing, the sound loud in his suddenly quiet apartment – and mind. At any other time, Seokmin's eagerness would make him laugh, and have his heart swooping in sudden worrying, death-defying tricks that hearts just shouldn't be doing. Just then, though, all it did was make Mingyu feel nervous. It was hard, facing up to having acted like an asshole, especially when it was aimed at someone you cared about; possibly cared about a little too much.

 

“Hey,” Mingyu greeted, as he answered the phone.

 

Seokmin's words came out in a single, breathless rush, as if he'd been holding them in for too long. “Are you okay? Is everything okay? I haven't heard from you in ages.”

 

There was a definite edge of concern and worry, bordering Seokmin's voice, and Mingyu could feel his heart constrict at the sound of it.

 

“I'm sorry,” he started, throwing a worried look in Wonwoo's direction, who simply blinked back at Mingyu. He translated that to mean _'well it is your fault'_ , and found himself wondering briefly what use Wonwoo was. “I was too sick really to text. I felt awful.”

 

He heard as Seokmin let out a breath he must have been holding. A shaky little laugh made its way into Mingyu's ear, shivering its way down his spine.

 

“Sorry. I'm glad you're okay. It's just...I got worried,” Seokmin began, and words were still tumbling out of his mouth, an anxious jumble by the sounds of it. “I probably overreacted. But Minghao said you were sick and you just, you never said anything. I wanted to make sure you and Wonwoo are okay?”

 

Mingyu wasn't sure what it was he was feeling all of a sudden, his mind and his stomach were a tumult of various emotions. It sounded like Seokmin was in a similar position, although he couldn't think why. Had Mingyu's forced silence really worried his friend that much? He'd never heard Seokmin like this before, and it was...strange.

 

“What's going on?” He could hear Seungcheol in the background suddenly, asking questions. “Are he and Wonwoo alright?”

 

When Seokmin responded, his voice was muffled, and Mingyu thought he'd put his hand over the speaker, to answer Seungcheol. “They're fine, don't worry. Let me talk, yeah? You can listen, just sit here.” There was some shuffling, what sounded like Seokmin patting a chair or a couch, and then the muffled quality left, and Seokmin's voice was clear again.

 

“Sorry. You're okay now though, right? Both of you?”

 

“I’m fine,” Mingyu assured. “Me and Wonwoo are all better now. It was just the flu, you didn't need to worry so much.” He felt awful, and guilty, and awkward with all these feelings roiling around inside of him, each vying to be on top. He didn't know what to do with himself, so Mingyu did what he always did when he was at a loss, he started cleaning. Wedging the phone between his ear and his shoulder, he began to move about his small apartment, picking things up, wiping down surfaces. Anything to try and keep himself moving, while this conversation happened.

 

Seokmin let out a quiet little laugh – quiet for him, anyway – and Mingyu could just picture the way Seokmin's eyes would crinkle, and his eyebrows would come together; he always thought of it as Seokmin's embarrassed face. It was cute.

 

“See, overreacting. I just...I haven't seen you that sick before. Last time, you could still talk and stuff. It had me worried. Especially when Minghao said he'd been talking to you and seeing you. I wondered...”

 

Mingyu pulled in a breath. “What?” His hands stilled, only having half wiped down his already clean kitchen counter. Even Wonwoo seemed to stand there, bushy tail held still, waiting for a moment.

 

“Nevermind,” Seokmin said quickly, making that embarrassed little laugh again. “It's silly.”

 

Mingyu shook his head, though he knew Seokmin couldn't see it. “No, what were you going to say?”

 

Perhaps Seokmin knew Mingyu well enough by now to know that he was stubborn, and probably wouldn't let it drop. “I just. I wanted to make sure we were okay, too?” He laughed again, a little awkward, and Mingyu tried not to let his heart leap at the sound of it. He was trying to stop that, after all. It wasn't his laugh to treasure, someone else had possession of it. “See, it sounds silly. But I worried about it, with you not talking to me at all.”

 

Mingyu found himself wondering if there was a special place in hell reserved for those who tried to dim the sun's brightness, because that's how he felt in that moment. He pulled the garbage bag out, rather forcefully, and knocked the bin over in the process. It clattered loudly against the floor, making Wonwoo jump. He could hear Seokmin utter something softly in surprise on the other end of the phone, too.

 

“What was that?”

 

Mingyu sighed sadly, as garbage spilled out across the floor; now he had actual dirt to clean up. “Oh, sorry, I just knocked the bin over.”

 

This time when Seokmin laughed, it sounded more like his usual, amused laugh, and it was good to hear. “Some things don't change, at least.”

 

“Hey,” Mingyu said, out of habit more than of real feeling; he was used to being teased for his clumsiness by now. There was a... lot of him to co-ordinate at any one time, could anyone be surprised when he knocked into things occasionally?

 

Seokmin laughed again. Mingyu tried hard not to let himself melt. “Sorry, but you know it's true.”

 

“It is true,” Wonwoo agreed, hearing Seokmin's end of the conversation through the phone. Mingyu scowled at him.

 

He heard as Seokmin cleared his throat. “So, you're okay?”

 

“I'm okay,” Mingyu confirmed.

 

“And...we're okay?”

 

“Of course we are,” he assured. He couldn't help but smile a little to himself, even as he felt bad for making Seokmin worry so much. He was such an idiot sometimes, he thought of himself.

 

“Good,” Seokmin said. There was a short, almost comfortable silence on the phone, before Seokmin spoke up again. “You know, it's my birthday next week.”

 

Mingyu found himself nodding. “You wouldn't let me forget, even if I tried.”

 

“Nope!” Seokmin agreed, cheerfully. “You're coming, right?”

 

“Whatever you want to do, I'll be there.”

 

“Good.”

 

After their conversation wound down to a natural end, and Mingyu had hung up, he found himself feeling a confusing mess of emotions; he wondered if it at all resembled the actual mess on the floor, as he cleaned up the garbage he'd spilt. Were those bits of carrot ends his stupidly fluttering heart? And the container of meat gone bad, could that be his guilt? As he swept it all back into the bin bag, he found himself wishing he could do that just as easily with his emotions.

 

He'd kind of tried that though, when he'd stopped talking to Seokmin properly, and now he felt even worse than he had before.

 

He was fucked, he thought.

 

“You're fucked,” Wonwoo said, echoing Mingyu's thoughts. Whether he was talking about the spill on the floor, or the complicated emotions he too would be feeling, Mingyu wasn't sure.

 

It was probably both. And Wonwoo was probably right.  
  


**  
  


“Are you sure you want my friends there, too?” Mingyu had asked, when Seokmin had told him to invite people to his birthday. “Cause, you know, it is _your_ birthday.”

 

But Seokmin had shaken his head, and insisted. “I like your friends,” he'd assured Mingyu, his smile wide. “They're fun. And it's a birthday, so the more people, the better it is, right?”

 

Mingyu had shrugged, but complied with the request, sending messages to Chan and to Seungkwan, inviting them to Seokmin's birthday celebrations. They'd both agreed easily enough, and Mingyu found himself quietly wondering when Seokmin seemed to have included Mingyu's friends as his own like that. He'd always thought of it as himself and Minghao bringing Seokmin into their lives, but he was beginning to wonder, at times, if perhaps it was Seokmin, bringing everyone into _his_ life instead.

 

It was a cold and rainy affair, on Seokmin's birthday, but as they were all spending the evening indoors, inside a warm, dry, bar, the weather outside hardly mattered. As the drinks flowed throughout the night, it was easily forgotten, anyway. It was a night much like New Year's Eve had been, with once again Seokmin's own friends co-mingling with Mingyu and Minghao's, and this time they all seemed to know each other a little better. The table was certainly louder this night, than it had been then.

 

Because it was Seokmin, everyone seemed happy to get into the general mood of the night, and join in on the drinking. Except, because it was Seokmin's birthday, it was _him_ that they were all trying to get drunk first.

 

“You know I'm terrible at drinking,” Seokmin had all but whined, as he sat next to Mingyu, when it had been his turn to down a glass of soju after failing his turn at a drinking game.

 

“That's the fun of it,” Mingyu had assured him, laughing brightly at the face Seokmin made after his drink. “It's okay,” he assured him, giving Seokmin's shoulder a heavy pat. “You can get your own back on everyone else, when it's their turn.”

 

“I will!” Seokmin insisted, loudly.

 

Mingyu had started this night by trying to see how Seokmin and Joshua interacted – against his will, at first, because he hadn't really _wanted_ to see evidence of things he didn't think he could have, but Wonwoo's insistence that Mingyu was wrong had him curious. Except he'd seen nothing, so far, beyond the normal behaviour between friends, that Seokmin exhibited towards all of them, really. And then there had come a point when Mingyu had, perhaps, consumed a little too many beers, and become distracted by what was going on, and he'd forgotten all about it. That, and he'd been seated on one side of Seokmin for half the night, and that alone had been a powerful distraction to him.

 

There was a loud, raucous shout from amongst the table, and when Mingyu turned to look the other way, it was to see Jihoon taking a shot now, after failing at something.

 

Leaning into Seokmin's space, Mingyu found himself talking loudly into Seokmin's ear. “What did Joshua get you for your birthday?”

 

He hadn't meant to say anything, but then, drinks often had a way of bypassing what little natural filter Mingyu had anyway, it seemed.

 

“Oh. A box of my favourite snacks!”

 

Mingyu's eyes wandered over towards Joshua, who was sat across the table from them, wedged between Seungkwan and Minghao. They'd moved onto a different game, it seemed, and it was Joshua's turn to try and flick the little protrusion from the bottle cap; a relieved smile spread across Joshua's face when he didn't succeed, and passed the cap on over to Minghao for his turn.  


“Huh,” he said, eyes wondering back over to Seokmin, who was watching the game progress. “Really?”

 

Seokmin's eyes met Mingyu's. “Yeah! We don't really do presents? Just silly things and jokes on birthdays, really.”

 

Mingyu turned to frown down at Wonwoo, who blinked back up at him.

 

“I keep telling you,” Wonwoo said, words starting to sound a little jumbled and mushy inside his mouth now. “I think you're wrong about this entire thing.”

 

Before Mingyu could even get his drunken mind to contemplate this, someone was shoving the bottle cap into his hand, for his own turn. He barely even paid attention as he flicked at the little twisted strip protruding from the cap, and so it took a long moment for everything to register, when it flew off the cap. There was another loud, joyful shout from around the table, and Mingyu realised, belatedly, that it meant he had to drink. Dammit.

 

He felt a hand clapping against his shoulder, and a chorus of ‘ _drink! drink!’_ from around him. He huffed, mouth falling into an unhappy pout, before he downed a glass of soju in one easy mouthful. There was applause around him as he did so.

 

“Thanks, you didn't have to take that one for me,” came Seokmin's laughing teasing, from beside Mingyu.

 

“Oh, you're getting the next one!” Mingyu said, trying to sound threatening. Apparently he was far off from that, because Seokmin only laughed harder, instead.

 

It was a good night, all told, even though Mingyu felt a few times like he might actually be sick, and Seokmin had all but fallen asleep against him at one point. He really _wasn't_ good with his drinking. The way that that made Mingyu's heart tighten had him swaying for a moment, trying not to be sick.

 

When Mingyu had finally gotten himself home that night, and undressed and ready for bed – after Wonwoo had reminded him to drink a copious amount of water – he was wriggling around in bed, feeling drunkenly sleepy but restless at the same time. With each wriggle, Wonwoo let out a soft whine, wanting to settle down to sleep.

 

“Stop it,” he muttered, words mixing together a little still.

 

“But,” Mingyu said, legs flailing a little beneath the blanket. “I'm so annoyed. I wanted to keep a better eye on how Seokmin and Joshua interacted tonight. But I kept forgetting!”

 

“You're an idiot,” Wonwoo huffed. “And I've told you, I think you're wrong. Anyway,” Wonwoo added, after a thoughtful pause, “I thought you were going to forget about him?”

 

Mingyu, rolling over onto his back, let out a loud, pathetic sounding whine, that had the fur along Wonwoo's back ripple, in what would be his version of cringing. “I'm drunk and in love. I can't forget him.”

 

“Then do something about it,” Wonwoo challenged. His tail flicked from one side of his body to the other.

 

“I can't do that, either.”

 

“Then go to sleep.”

 

“You're no help at all.”

 

“Nope,” Wonwoo agreed, sleepily. “Be quiet now.”

 

There was a loud, childish huff of air. Some more wriggling. “He’s so attractive, though!” Mingyu burst out, after only a few moments of silence. “How am I supposed to forget about him, when he’s walking around all good-looking and shit?”  
  
“Mingyu,” Wonwoo said, sounding tired. “Go to sleep.”

 

There was another huff, as he turned around a couple of times, trying to get comfortable. But eventually, Mingyu found himself falling asleep, his muddled thoughts turning into even more muddled dreams; there were endless fountains of beer, all mixed up with Seokmin's smile, and hearts broken and trampled across the floor, before the dreams finally faded away into nothingness.

  


**  
  


“Whatever happened with that person you were into?” Minghao's voice drifted out from the bathroom, across to the living room, where Mingyu was sat, lounging across the couch as if it was his own. “The one you said you wanted to date?”

 

The question took Mingyu by surprise – although it shouldn't have, he supposed – because he hadn't actually mentioned anything about it for awhile now. He certainly hadn't told Minghao still just _who_ it was he'd been interested in, and never would, now that he figured he couldn't do anything about it. He didn't want to potentially make things weird between any of them, since he, Minghao and Seokmin had grown to be such good friends by then.

 

He felt Wonwoo's tail as it beat a couple of slow, gentle flicks, against Mingyu's leg. He caught Wonwoo's eye, before shrugging slightly. He tried to inject a sense of nonchalance into his voice, as he called back a reply. “Oh, nothing.”

 

Minghao's face suddenly appeared, leaning around the frame of the bathroom door, peering over at Mingyu. “What?” Minghao asked, at the same time as Hansol, face also peeking around the frame, said, “what happened?”

 

Mingyu, feeling a little awkward with this attention on him suddenly, waved a hand dismissively at them both. The motion was enough to jostle the remote control that had been resting on Mingyu's thigh, and it fell to the floor with a loud clatter, making them all jump. “Sorry,” Mingyu said, leaning down to pick up the remote. Wonwoo glared at him.

 

“What happened?” Hansol asked again, clearly curious.

 

“Nothing,” Mingyu said, wishing that he meant it. “I'm not ready to date yet. I'm over it.” His eyes stayed focused on the television, and in an effort to give himself something to do, he started flicking through the channels obnoxiously, forgetting that Minghao hated when he did that.

 

He missed the look that Minghao gave him, before his head disappeared back into the bathroom.

 

“That's a shame,” was all he heard, said in a rather careful tone, a few moments later. There was a hushed conversation then, between Minghao and Hansol, though Mingyu couldn't catch the words.

 

Wonwoo looked at Mingyu, head tilted a little aside in a question, and Mingyu shook his head; he didn't need to hear what was being said.

 

A few minutes later, and Minghao stepped back out into the room. Mingyu glanced over at him, and then did a comical double-take, almost dropping the remote to the floor again.

 

“Where are you going?” Mingyu asked, whistling lowly at Minghao. He always looked good, it was effortless for him, but Minghao was looking especially good just then, dressed in ripped, skinny jeans and some painfully cool looking shirt and coat. There was a hint of make-up on his face, and he'd styled his hair as well. Even Hansol was walking around seeming a little taller, a little straighter, on his already long legs.

 

Minghao gave Mingyu a look, but didn't answer. Mingyu pushed himself up, until he was sitting on the couch. He narrowed his eyes. “You're going on a date,” he accused.

 

Minghao shrugged.

 

“You are!” Mingyu insisted. “Where are you going? Is it anyone I know?”

 

There was a quiet sigh from Wonwoo's direction, but Mingyu ignored his terribly incurious spirit.

 

“Just someone,” Minghao said. Mingyu had a feeling he was being evasive because he knew that it would drive Mingyu crazy, and Minghao got great amusement out of bothering Mingyu like that.

 

Mingyu pouted. “Why didn't you say anything?”

 

Minghao moved over towards the side table, picking up his wallet and keys. He threw a look at Mingyu over his shoulder. “This is what happens when you just drop by, completely uninvited, without a word. Sometimes I do have plans, you know, that don't involve you.” There was a glint in Minghao's eye, though, and Mingyu could hear the teasing tone beneath the words, one that he knew all too well.

 

He pouted harder, and Minghao actually let out a laugh at the sight of it.

 

“I meant about meeting someone!” Mingyu said, “But that too! Why didn't you say?”

 

Minghao walked over to a small mirror he had hanging up on one of the walls, double checking his face; he must have known he looked good though, and was doing it just to further mess with Mingyu, he was sure.

 

“It's a new thing. I don't know if it's worth talking about yet or not.”

 

That was enough to pull the silly pout off of Mingyu's face, and he nodded slowly, understanding. “Okay, a fair point. But please, give me all the details when you're done. I have to know.”

 

Minghao gave him another look. “And for that, I'm gonna tell you nothing.”

 

Mingyu picked up the cushion nearest to him, and aimed it at Minghao's head. For the sake of his own life, he was lucky that he missed.

 

“Okay, get out now,” Minghao said, trying not to laugh. “I have to go, so you have to go too.”

 

“But,” Mingyu said, sighing as he pushed himself to standing, “I'm bored and lonely.”

 

Minghao stepped around Mingyu and reached down for the remote, turning the television off, before placing it down on the coffee table. Hansol, with the thrown cushion in his mouth, brought it back over to the couch, where Minghao picked it up and settled it back into place.

 

“You have other friends. Go and bother them.”

 

The friendly, usual bickering continued between them, right up until they were both at the front of Minghao's building, ready to part ways. It was only then that Mingyu let a little seriousness show through, and he grinned over at Minghao. “I hope you have a good night. You look amazing, by the way, you'll knock them dead.”

 

Minghao flashed a smile in return. “Thanks. I'm still not telling you a thing, though.”

 

“Damn.”

 

For the rest of the evening, Mingyu drove Wonwoo crazy, with his curious wondering about Minghao and his secretive date. At least it helped keep his mind off of his own non existent love life for a time.  
  


**  
  


“I can't believe the one time you actually follow my advice, is when I was wrong about it.”

 

Mingyu, who had been in the middle of washing up, dropped the plate he was holding in the sink, and turned to look down at Wonwoo, eyes ridiculously wide. Wonwoo flinched at the clattering of the plate, but at least it didn't smash.

 

“Are you...are you really admitting to being wrong about something?”

 

Wonwoo, tail swishing behind him, let out a quiet huff. “Can you focus on what I'm actually trying to say, please?”

 

“Sorry,” Mingyu apologised, reaching out to pick up the dropped plate. “But, really. You never think you're wrong. Are you serious?”

 

“ _Mingyu_.”

 

Mingyu's mouth snapped shut, as he began to rewash the plate.

 

“I'm just saying,” Wonwoo continued, “that it's stupid. You never actually listen to me, except now. And I think I was wrong about what I told you.”

 

“Yeah?” Mingyu glanced down at Wonwoo out of the corner of his eye. “About what, exactly?”

 

“About the whole dating again thing. Being careful with Seokmin.”

 

“What are you talking about? I'm over that.”

 

He felt a paw hit the back of one of his calves, and Mingyu jumped a little. The plate clattered, once again, to the bottom of the sink. “Shit,” Mingyu mumbled, reaching back into the sudsy water.

 

“I feel the same things you do, idiot, and I know we're not over it yet.”

 

Mingyu huffed. “Well, we should be.”

 

Considering they were nearing the end of April by then, Mingyu thought that he'd had more than enough time to try and expel any lingering feelings out of his heart. Yet still...

 

“Just ask him,” Wonwoo said. “It's not like you, to be this cautious about something. Just ask, and we can go from there.”

 

“Yeah, but...”

 

“Ignore everything I said before. I was worried about you then. This is worse. I can't stand you moping around the house without at least knowing, one way or another, if there's a chance.”

 

“But if I say something, and it's not an answer I want, won't it ruin our friendship? I don't want to lose him completely.” Mingyu scratched at his cheek, leaving a small smear of bubbles across his face as he did so.

 

“That has literally never bothered you before,” Wonwoo pointed out.

 

“Well, it bothers me now.” He finally finished washing the same plate, and was in the process of drying it, when he noticed a piece had chipped off, from the repeated dropping. “Goddamnit,” he muttered, before striding over towards the bin, and tossing it away.

 

“I think,” Wonwoo said, eyes following Mingyu's movements, “that you won't be able to move on, until you know.”

 

“I'm fine,” Mingyu insisted. “And I will be fine. Stop worrying, okay.”

 

This time it was Wonwoo who huffed. Mingyu could feel the sense of displeasure that was coming from Wonwoo just then. And, maybe a part of Wonwoo was right. Normally, Mingyu really wouldn't hesitate like this. He'd dive right in there, ask questions, and think later; deal with the consequences later, too.

 

Except this time, it felt different for him. There was a sense of importance, about Mingyu's feelings. A weight to them, that had only increased over time. The thought of messing something up, and no longer having Seokmin in his life – missing out on his loud laughter, and the ridiculous conversations they could have, or no longer seeing his bright, heart-warming smile – made something freeze up inside of Mingyu.

 

It was easier, he thought, to try and pretend it wasn't there, than to lose a friend he'd grown to love.  
  


**  
  


Mingyu's first thought upon seeing Seokmin that day had been: _'Fuck, he looks so cute today.'_ And that really, he'd later think, had sounded his downfall.

 

But, he was wearing a blue and white striped button-up shirt, and his hair looked so soft, and he was in such a good mood that day, full of smiles for Mingyu and Wonwoo. Well, Seokmin was always in a good mood really, but there was something especially endearing about him today, and Mingyu could feel his heart both ready to take off, and on the verge of just melting into a puddle and ruining Seokmin's floor.

 

He wasn't sure which would be worse. But he was beginning to have an inkling that, moving on from this – as he continued to insist he was – wasn't actually happening. Not with the way the elephants woke up and danced inside his stomach, every time that bright, warm smile was aimed in his direction. Mingyu often found his fingers itching to just pull Seokmin closer, and learn how it might feel, to kiss the sun.

 

He earned himself a smart, swift _swat_ to the knee from Wonwoo, for all the ridiculous feelings that continued to dance through him, and Mingyu tried valiantly to stop thinking and feeling at all.

 

But, ' _oh god he just looks so soft and beautiful what am I supposed to do with this.'_

 

Another swat to his leg, before Wonwoo wandered back over towards Seungcheol, and honestly, Mingyu thought, looking over at them, Wonwoo was almost as bad as he was, following Seungcheol around, laughing with him about things that he and Seokmin couldn't quite hear.

 

 _'You're in this with me too, you know,'_ Mingyu thought to himself.

 

He'd asked Wonwoo before, what he and Seungcheol liked to talk about, and Wonwoo had been evasive about it, saying something ridiculous like 'just things'. One day, Mingyu vowed, he would get a real answer out of his spirit.

 

Not this day, though. Because on this day, Mingyu's mind, and feelings, were too preoccupied with Seokmin – and attempting to _not_ be as preoccupied with Seokmin. He was fighting a losing battle there against himself.

 

“You really don't have to do this,” Seokmin was saying, hovering a little around Mingyu. “Especially not right now. I can do it later!”

 

“It's fine,” Mingyu insisted. “I don't mind.” He threw a grin over his shoulder, at Seokmin. “It'll bother me if it stays like this. Here,” he handed the last couple of books off the shelf to Seokmin, who stepped away to place them on his coffee table, joining the rest of the items that had been removed.

 

Mingyu had taken it into his head to fix it. It had been put up a little crookedly on the wall, and despite Seokmin's protests, Mingyu had found the tools, and just taken to the task.

 

Seokmin sputtered at Mingyu's little dig, before dissolving into laughter himself. “Okay, there's no real way to defend myself, I admit. I did a crap job. I'm never going to make much of a handyman.”

 

Waggling his eyebrows, Mingyu said, “there are different types of handy man you can be.”

 

Seokmin's ears went red, even as he let out a loud, startled laugh, and Mingyu wanted to kick himself. It had come out far more suggestive when said out loud, than it had inside his head. There was a quiet snorting from where Wonwoo and Seungcheol were curled up together, and Mingyu had a feeling that they were both laughing at him. Traitors.

 

Clearing his throat, Mingyu turned to face his task at hand. He was a clumsy idiot half the time, as Minghao – and Wonwoo – would happily tell him, but he knew how to be safe with tools. “Anyway, this will just take five minutes, then you can use it properly.”

 

Seokmin had given up trying to stop Mingyu from helping, especially after he'd picked up the screwdriver and made a start. He still hovered a little, seemingly wanting to help, but not knowing what to do, and Mingyu found this nearness both terribly distracting, and stupidly endearing. It made it a little hard to focus, however, and he found himself just filling the space between them with useless words, his mind only half on what he was saying, as he began to unscrew one of the brackets from the wall.

 

“So, have you seen anyone good lately?” He asked, and it took approximately ten, long, seconds for him to realise that that really wasn't the question he'd meant to ask. He was trying _not_ to think about Seokmin, and dating, and his potentially not being single, and how close he was standing next to Mingyu for all this time. “I mean,” he added quickly, feeling the back of his neck begin to warm. “Seen any _thing_ good lately. You know. Like television, or movies, or music. Well,” he amended, feeling even more ridiculous now, “not that you can see music. You know what I mean.”

 

With a quiet sigh, he decided he should just give up talking. But even out of the corner of his eye, he could see the laughing smile that was on Seokmin's face. Even just a glimpse of it and it was blinding, Mingyu thought. How did one man have so much power, in just his smile?

 

Seokmin seemed to accept Mingyu's slip as nothing less than ordinary, and he began to talk about an American movie he'd seen recently. “It was really good, I thought,” Seokmin all but gushed, as Mingyu continued to work on the shelf. “There were songs in it too. It wasn't exactly a musical, but it was about musicians? And relationships, and learning to be happy on your own. Starting again type thing.”

 

“Oh?” Mingyu held his hand out, for Seokmin to take and hold the loose screws for him. There was the barest brush of fingers, as the screws changed hands. Seokmin continued talking, as if he couldn't hear the increased pounding of Mingyu's heart, right there between them.

 

“Yeah! I think you'd like it. We should definitely watch it some time. It's got this great, hopeful kind of feeling, when you finish watching it.”

 

“It sounds interesting,” Mingyu agreed. He wasn't sure that it actually did, but honestly, if Seokmin smiled at him like that and gushed in excitement about it, Mingyu would happily watch whatever it was Seokmin wanted to share with him.

 

So much for getting over this.

 

It didn't take long at all for Mingyu to readjust the bracket, and get the shelf sitting straight this time, and Seokmin continued to chatter away, in his usual manner, handing Mingyu a screw each time he needed to put one back into the wall.

 

“So, don't laugh at me for this, okay?” Seokmin started, although he continued talking before Mingyu could say anything about it, “but I decided to try this dating app the other day, and. I mean...there are some really weird people out there in the world?”

 

Mingyu's mind, momentarily, shut down. He blinked, and his fingers seemed to stop working, the screw and the screwdriver he'd been holding both dropping to the floor. It took a minute for the words to process through his mind, and he was still sure that he hadn't heard Seokmin correctly. He couldn't have.

 

Seokmin, who hadn't even really paused in what he was saying, let out a soft laugh, and bent down, picking up the fallen items from the floor. He handed them to the still-frozen Mingyu with what seemed to be an even brighter than usual smile, too. “Clumsy,” he chided, fondly. “But,” he said, picking up his previous thread of conversation, “did you find that, when you tried? I thought I'd found what was meant to be a good one, but all I've had so far are like, some real creeps? And that's really not what I'm looking for.”

 

The freeze thawed, and Mingyu's brain was suddenly screaming. He almost wanted to scream himself. He could feel that Wonwoo had suddenly tensed, and was now alert, his large ears and small face pointed in their direction. Mingyu's heart was racing inside his chest, and though he'd heard clearly now, he still couldn't quite believe what it was he was hearing.

 

He'd spent what felt like such a long, long, time, having convinced himself that Seokmin was out of his reach, an unattainable love that he'd have no choice but to quietly, bravely, try to get over. A beautiful smile that he could never call his own. He'd worked himself up into such an emotional state, at least a couple of times, over this very thing as well.

 

And now, to hear Seokmin talking so casually, even laughing, about being single and trying out dating apps.

 

Mingyu really did want to scream.

 

He didn't quite scream, but words came out of his mouth that didn't even pass through his thoughts first, just his gut-reaction to this sudden, startling information he was trying to get his head around.

 

“You mean, this entire time, you've _actually been single?_ ”

 

Seokmin stared at him, surprised at the sudden and unexpected emotion behind Mingyu's words.

 

Mingyu wasn't even aware of what he'd said, for a good few seconds, and then he wished he could take the words back. Wonwoo was sitting up now, watching them both intently. Seungcheol had his head resting on his outstretched front paws, as if he was enjoying the show. His tail tapped once, twice, slowly against the floor.

 

“What?” Seokmin asked.

 

“What?” Mingyu said back.

 

Maybe it hadn't sounded quite like he'd thought it did.

 

There was a long, strange silence, as they stared at each other. It was Seokmin who broke it first. The silence, not the strangeness. “What did you say?” He was frowning a little now, as if he was trying to work out the answer to a riddle. His face looked so cute when he was confused, Mingyu thought, hopelessly to himself.

 

“I didn't say anything.”

 

It was a terrible attempt, and Mingyu could see that Seokmin wasn't having it at all.

 

And all this time, he'd done so well, not to actually mention anything, or hint towards his own intentions, when he'd thought Seokmin had been beyond him. But hearing that the weeks, months, even, of quiet, emotional suffering he'd been going through had been needless...well apparently, that was too much for Mingyu to handle, or at least a part of Mingyu, that had forced those ridiculous words out of his mouth.

 

“You said, 'this entire time'. What 'entire time' do you mean?”

 

Did he have to look so impossibly endearing right now, Mingyu wondered, because he was too busy experiencing an emotional crisis, to let himself melt over a cute face just then.

 

“Uhh...” he looked away from Seokmin, to somewhere behind his shoulder instead, as if he might find the words to say floating in the air behind him. He didn't. “I meant...the entire time I've known you?”

 

Seokmin still looked confused. “You did know that, though? I've never once mentioned seeing anyone?”

 

“I...” _Shit._ He waved a hand around, stalling as his mind strained to think of something to say. It wasn't until Seokmin ducked back a little, that Mingyu realised he was swinging the screwdriver around. “Sorry,” he mumbled, hastily putting that, and the screw still in his hand, up on the almost-finished shelf. There was no way he could focus on it just then, and yet, it would have given him an excellent excuse to do something else in that moment. “You...you never said anything about not seeing anyone, either!”

 

Wonwoo was trying to hide his face behind his paws, and was offering no help whatsoever, as Mingyu found himself floundering in this moment. He knew that Wonwoo would just tell him later that it was his own fault, and he deserved to be made to feel like the idiot that he actually was. Mingyu would still call him a traitor for it, though.

 

Seokmin's eyebrows continued to crease together, and his eyes had barely left Mingyu's face, the entire time this was taking place. It was very unsettling, because Seokmin's eyes were especially pretty, Mingyu found, even when he was confused and frowning.

 

“Why are you being so weird about it, though? It's not like it's a big deal?”

 

“No,” Mingyu agreed quickly, now making a conscious effort to try to look – and sound – normal about everything. “You're right. It's no big deal. It's not as if I wanted to try and date you myself, or anything!”

 

It was only after the words had left his mouth that he realised it was a terrible way to try and make Seokmin's point, because it sounded like the complete opposite when spoken out loud. Mingyu stood up even straighter than normal, and took a step back, feeling ridiculous. He was sure his face was beginning to flush now, he could feel the heat crawling along his cheeks; he was too old to blush now, goddamnit.

 

Seokmin's face went from confused, to surprised, and he stood there for a moment, staring at Mingyu, mouth hanging open. There was a hard _thud_ , of Seungcheol's tail against the floor.

 

“What?”

 

“Nothing,” Mingyu said quickly, avoiding Seokmin's gaze. “I said nothing.”

 

“You...you're blushing.” There was a strange, almost strained, tone to Seokmin's voice, now. It was an alien sound to Mingyu, and enough to make him look over at Seokmin again. He wished he hadn't, because Seokmin's cheeks and ears had turned red, and it was the prettiest blush Mingyu had ever seen. It was the only blush Mingyu had ever allowed himself to think of as 'pretty' in the first place.

 

“So are you,” Mingyu couldn't help but point out, a little childishly, maybe.

 

“You don't...you didn't want to date me? Not really.”

 

“No,” Mingyu agreed. But lying didn't suit him, and something else inside of him was having too much fun, making him say things he didn't intend on saying out loud, and certainly not like this, not right now. So only seconds later, his mouth opened yet again, and a single word spilled out this time. “Yes.” He sucked in a deep breath, letting it out slowly, before adding, “I mean. Yeah. Yes. I do. Um...”

 

Seokmin continued to just stare at Mingyu, mouth open, blinking at him, seemingly at a loss for words. Which...wasn't at all like him, and had Mingyu's heart clenching, worried now. This was what he'd not wanted to happen. He felt a soft pressure against the back of his leg, and looked down, only to see Wonwoo curling around his leg. When he looked up, Seokmin was still at a loss for words.

 

Mingyu could feel a weight forming, heavy inside his chest.

 

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to come out like this. I didn't mean to say anything at all, really. Just...can we just forget this? And move on?” His fingers itched to run themselves through Wonwoo's fur, and seek comfort in the warmth of his spirit, but Mingyu couldn't make himself move from where he stood.

 

Seokmin seemed to come back into himself then, letting out a long breath; his face was still red. “You're just joking, right?” He asked. “Teasing me?”

 

Mingyu resisted the urge to take a step forward, but he shook his head, an emphatic _no_. “Of course not!” He insisted. “I know I make dumb jokes, but I wouldn't tease about something like this.” He felt strange and awkward, and suddenly Mingyu could feel every inch of his being, and felt too tall for the room. And for these feelings. “Can we...can we sit down, or something? This is kind of weird.”

 

This was the worst, he thought to himself, as he followed Seokmin over to the couch. A really smooth way of confessing. The absolute opposite of what he would have done, if Mingyu had set out intentionally to let Seokmin know about his feelings. There would have been candles, and wine, and Mingyu would have cooked Seokmin his favourite meal, and basically he'd have tried to be smooth as hell, before getting to his point.

 

But this...it reminded him why he hadn't tried to date anyone seriously since his terrible break up.

 

It was with a little sadness, that Mingyu realised they were sitting at opposite ends of the couch, as far apart as they could be. But Wonwoo had jumped up onto Mingyu's lap and curled up there, and Mingyu's fingers found their way into his soft, comforting fur. Beside Seokmin, sitting on the floor, was Seungcheol, leaning his head against Seokmin's leg. Mingyu could see, as Seokmin's fingers sought the same comfort in Seungcheol's golden fur, that he was seeking from Wonwoo's.

 

The tension felt worse than the time Mingyu had tried to ignore Seokmin, and had to face how his asshole behaviour had made Seokmin feel.

 

The moment felt heavy, as it weighed between them, but there was still that pretty flush of colour across Seokmin's cheeks. “I still don't believe you,” he insisted, voice strangely small.

 

Mingyu tried to inject his words with all the earnestness he felt within himself; which was a lot, because this was Mingyu, and he might be reckless with his words or actions, but was always sincere about them all the same. “It's true,” he insisted.

 

“Since when?” Seokmin asked, and it sounded almost like a challenge.

 

Well, Mingyu could meet that challenge. He'd had enough time to come to terms with these feelings by then, and they'd long since solidified, and settled down inside his heart, stubbornly refusing to be removed or forgotten. He kind of wished that his emotions weren't quite as stubborn as he was sometimes.

 

“Since New Year's,” he answered easily. Then, correcting himself, he said, “actually, it was from before that. But I realised after the New Year.”

 

“Really?”

 

Mingyu nodded, trying to look as earnest now and as sincere as he felt. Seokmin still looked unsure.

 

“You still don't seem convinced?”

 

“Well, I mean,” Seokmin started, waving his hands around now, a little wildly for Mingyu's comfort, “have you _seen_ you?”

 

Mingyu frowned. “Yes?”

 

Seokmin's arms continued their flailing, this time pointing at himself now. “Have you seen _me_?”

 

“Yes?” Mingyu was confused. He couldn't understand what all the flailing and gesturing was about.

 

Seokmin let out a huff of air, and his words came out faster now, with more feeling behind them, less careful. “You're just...you're so damn handsome! And tall! And you're good at everything? Except confessing,” he added, looking a little apologetic. “I'm sorry, but that was a terrible way to confess.”

 

Mingyu's frown deepened. “I'm sorry? Are you trying to compliment me or embarrass me? I don't get it.”

 

Seokmin's hands shot out again, gesturing at Mingyu, as if they could get across what his words seemingly could not. His hands couldn't, either, because Mingyu didn't speak Wild Gesticulation.

 

“I mean. Just...just look at you!”

 

There was a heavy thump against the floor – Seungcheol's tail, Mingyu thought – and Wonwoo was shuffling on his lap now, irritated.

 

“You idiot,” Seungcheol murmured.

 

At the same time, Wonwoo was speaking up, too. “He's saying he doesn't think he's good enough for you, you dummy.”

 

Mingyu looked between the two spirits – and wondered when they'd teamed up against him like this – before looking back at Seokmin, and he couldn't process that thought at all. It took a moment, and the look on his face as he tried to must have been ridiculous, because Seokmin couldn't quite stop the little laugh that escaped him. Mingyu could accept that. There wasn't enough processing power left inside his brain to be insulted, anyway.

 

“Seokmin...that's ridiculous. Don't you know how beautiful you are?” The words were said with such a rush of earnest feeling behind them, there was no way that Seokmin could miss their sincerity.

 

And he didn't. His cheeks turned a brighter shade of red, and he hid his face behind his hands, clearly flustered. Seungcheol stood up, circled a couple of times on the spot, before sitting down again, tail thumping in a soft, but steady beat against the floor now.

 

“Stop it,” he said, embarrassed, and Mingyu couldn't help but think how this was possibly the cutest thing he had ever witnessed. He'd had no idea it would be this easy to fluster Seokmin, but it was information he was storing away for later, though he barely hoped that there might _be_ a later in which to use it. “I'm too old to be feeling like this. This is stupid, what's wrong with you?”

 

Mingyu laughed at that, and somehow, a little of the strangeness that had sat between them began to dissolve amidst the sound. He leaned forward then, unsettling Wonwoo from his lap, and reached towards Seokmin. As he reached out, the rest of the weight between them was scattered aside. His fingers closed around one of Seokmin's wrists, and gently, he began to pry Seokmin's hand from his face.

 

“Hey,” he said, gently. “I'm serious here. This was a terrible way for it to come out, and I'm sorry. My mouth is an idiot that talks without permission from my brain first. But I mean it. I’m really attracted to you, and I'd like to try dating you. If you don't mind?”

 

Finally, Seokmin looked back up at Mingyu, and their eyes met. Mingyu felt that his face must have been as red as Seokmin's was, in this moment. It was silly, really. He was nearing thirty, and yet this was the worst confession of his entire dating career. He could feel his confused, sixteen year old self laughing at him, in the back of his mind.

 

“I...”

 

It seemed that Seokmin was taking too long to answer, as he just stared up into Mingyu's face, and Seungcheol let out a loud, impatient huff. “He doesn't mind,” he said, speaking up for Seokmin. “And he'd like to date you too. Thanks for asking.”

 

Seokmin's head whipped around to look at his spirit. “Seungcheol!”

 

There was what looked like an attempt for a golden retriever to shrug. “You were taking too long to answer. I'm just helping.”

 

There seemed a moment then, where Wonwoo and Seungcheol looked at each other, as if they were both sharing a silent spell of despairing over their hopeless humans.

 

“So?” Mingyu said, and Seokmin's gaze came back to meet his again.

 

“Yeah,” Seokmin said, a smile unfolding across his face. It seemed to contain all the warmth that Mingyu had ever experienced in his entire life, and just then, it was only for him. “Okay.”  


 

**  
  


“So,” Seokmin began, looking across the table at Mingyu. “If you've liked me since the start of the year...what took you so long to say anything?”

 

Mingyu swallowed thickly, wondering how to phrase things so that he didn't sound as pathetic as he seemed. “Well, I didn't think you were single.”

 

Seokmin's eyes widened in surprise, before he laughed. It was a little loud for the restaurant, and he laughed again, softer, looking embarrassed.

 

“You're gonna blow out the candles if you keep that up,” Mingyu teased.

 

It was their first date, and Mingyu was trying to make amends for the absurd way everything had come out. Which meant he was pulling out all the stops; had found them a romantic but cosy restaurant to go eat at, and there were candles and wine and good food on the menu. Pretty piano music was playing in the background. He'd even debated whether he ought to get Seokmin some flowers, too, but Wonwoo had talked him out of it, telling him he didn't need to try that hard. There would be other opportunities for flowers. At least, he hoped so, anyway.

 

“But I never once mentioned dating anyone,” Seokmin said, still looking a mixture of confused and amused. “I would have told you something important like that!”

 

Mingyu began to fiddle with a piece of cutlery, feeling a little silly. He could feel Wonwoo shift against his leg, beneath the table. “I'd talked myself into thinking you were keeping it secret, because it was a new thing, and you didn't want to ruin anything.”

 

Seokmin hummed thoughtfully. He opened his mouth to say something else, but their meals arriving stopped him short. It wasn't until after everything had been placed onto the table, and they'd both begun eating, that he picked up the thread of the conversation again. “Who did you think I was dating, anyway? Is it anyone I know?”

 

“Ah...” Mingyu really, really wished that this hadn't come up, he wasn't sure he could admit to this outloud. Now that the moment had passed, he could reflect and see how ridiculous his thoughts and assumptions had been. Wonwoo had been right the entire time, about Mingyu being wrong, and he'd been too stubborn and stupid to believe him. He'd let his insecurities weave a web of untruths around his heart.

 

But admitting to it outloud made him feel silly.

 

“No,” he said instead, not quite meeting Seokmin's eyes. He cut up some of the steak on his plate, placing a piece into his mouth quickly, hoping it would save him from having to say anything else.

 

No such luck, though, not with Seokmin.

 

“You know, I can tell when you're lying.”

 

Mingyu tried not to choke on the piece of beef in his mouth.

 

“What? How?” he challenged, narrowing his eyes at Seokmin.

 

“Cause you're terrible at it,” he said, bringing a piece of steak up to his own mouth then too. “And Wonwoo told Seungcheol you were lying,” he added, before biting down on the food, laughter on his face.

 

Mingyu ducked his head down, though he still couldn't lean far enough down to see Wonwoo beneath the table. “You're a filthy traitor,” he accused.

 

Wonwoo snuffled, or laughed, he wasn't quite sure. “You deserve it, for being an idiot and driving me crazy for months.”

 

“Don't act as if you didn't feel the same way too.”

 

“Guys, guys,” Seokmin said, laughing now. “Come on. Anyway, you still didn't tell me who you thought I was dating?”

 

Mingyu shook his head. As much as his heart yearned to just give Seokmin whatever he wanted, a part of him was going to remain stubborn. He couldn't expose himself more than he already had. “No. It was no one, I was just being stupid, that entire time.”

 

Seokmin's eyes widened then, and his hand paused in the motion of bringing another mouthful of food towards his face. “The entire time. That's what you meant, that night, when you said it? The entire time you were into me, you thought I was seeing someone? You have to tell me now!”

 

Mingyu shook his head again, resolute in this one thing, if in nothing else.

 

“Come on,” Seokmin whined, trying to look cute. Well, there was no 'try' about it, he _did_ look cute, to Mingyu at least.

 

“It wasn't a real person!” He insisted, “Eat your food, it'll get cold.”

 

Seokmin, pretending to look sad, huffed. And accidentally blew out the candle on their table. He looked at the smoke that was now spiralling its way towards the ceiling, then across to Mingyu, their eyes meeting, before they both burst out into laughter.

 

All things considered, Mingyu knew it was the best date he'd gone on, in a long, long time. It helped that it was with Seokmin, who was his friend first, and everytime the elephants tried to get out of control inside his stomach, Mingyu tried to remind himself that this was just Seokmin. No matter how bright his smile was, or how large Mingyu's heart felt like it was growing, this was Seokmin, who he'd seen cry over television adverts, and fall asleep drunk on a table, or sneeze so loudly and so violently that he'd almost fallen over once. It was Seokmin, who he was comfortable with, and could talk to. Even if just being near him was making Mingyu feel all giddy and floaty, and the sudden, pressing image of kissing Seokmin was beginning to try and fill his mind and distract him from all other things.

 

They decided they wanted ice cream after dinner, even though the late April evening still had a slightly chill edge to it. As they walked, talking and laughing as easily as they usually did, Mingyu felt a hand find his own, before Seokmin thread their fingers together. The look Seokmin gave him, as they walked, was the painfully endearing, embarrassed smile he had, where his eyes almost vanished and his eyebrows creased together, and a light blush coloured his cheeks.

 

It was a good thing that Seokmin was holding his hand, Mingyu thought. Because that smile alone had his heart swelling, and he thought that he might just float off into space with how light he was feeling, if it weren't for the warm hand that held onto his own.

 

Behind them, Wonwoo and Seungcheol walked close beside each other, whispering together, their tails brushing against each other every now and then.

 

Who needed ice cream, Mingyu wondered, when he had a smile as sweet as Seokmin's, nestled comfortably inside his heart.  
  


**  
  


“I can't believe you didn't tell me that it was _Seokmin_ you had feelings for!” Minghao was glaring at Mingyu, trying to look mildly annoyed. “How did you manage to keep that quiet? You're terrible with secrets.”

 

Mingyu folded his arms over his chest, looking down at Minghao, attempting to be intimidating or something. It just made Minghao laugh.

 

“Look,” Mingyu began, unfolding his arms now so that he could push a bowl of food closer towards Minghao. “I didn't want to say anything and make things weird between you and Seokmin. You're friends too, and you have to work together.”

 

Minghao made a face. “You're also terrible at lying.”

 

There was a loud, amused snigger, from Hansol's direction, where he was curled up on the floor near Minghao's chair. Neither Mingyu nor Minghao deigned to respond to it.

 

Mingyu huffed. “Okay, well, that part _is_ true,” he said. He began to pile food on top of his rice, pausing every now and then to make sure that Minghao took some, too. “But, honestly. I kind of...got it into my head that he was seeing someone? And then I didn't think I should say anything.”

 

Minghao looked just as confused at this revelation as Seokmin had, and Mingyu felt his pride crawling several thousand feet lower than it already was by then.

 

“Why?”

 

“Look!” He burst out, “He just kept talking about him and it felt like there was a thing going on between them, okay? It's an easy mistake to make.”

 

Minghao paused to sip from his glass, eyes still on Mingyu's face. “Okay...but who was he talking about? He has like, five friends. Two of which are sitting right here.”

 

In a rather small voice, Mingyu said, “...I thought he was dating Joshua.”

 

Minghao let out such a loud, and violent, laugh, that Mingyu rocked back in his chair, taken aback. He'd rarely seen Minghao laugh as hard as he was laughing in that moment. There had been that time in college when they'd both been stinking drunk, and Mingyu had been unable to figure out how to walk around a small tree blocking his path, forgetting that _going around_ was an option, and Minghao had laughed so hard he'd fallen to the pavement and started crying.

 

He looked pretty close to crying just then, and Hansol's own laughter joined in the sound then, too. Mingyu just sat there, glaring at the both of them, until Minghao had gathered enough air to be able to breathe and talk again.

 

“Oh, Gyu,” he said, little pockets of laughter still pouring from his mouth every now and then. “Oh, I wish you'd said something sooner. I could have told you that Seokmin wasn't dating Joshua.”

 

Mingyu frowned. “Really?”

 

Minghao nodded. He reached up towards his face, wiping what definitely looked like a couple of tears from his cheeks. “I could have told you that he was seeing _me_.”

 

“What, Seokmin was?!”

 

“No, you idiot,” Minghao scolded, reaching out to smack at Mingyu's shoulder. “Joshua. He was seeing me.”

 

Mingyu felt his mouth drop open in surprise, and he was really glad he hadn't taken another mouthful of food in that moment. He didn't need to be called gross, as well as being laughed at. “No!” He said, disbelieving. Then, his mind rewound to a couple of months ago, when Minghao had gotten all dressed up and gone out on some hot date. “That was with _Joshua_?”

 

Minghao, looking a mixture of amused and pleased, nodded. “Yeah.”

 

It was Mingyu's turn to be accusing. “Why didn't _you_ say anything, huh?”

 

Minghao reached out with his chopsticks, snagging a piece of meat from the plate between them, and popped it into his mouth. He shrugged one shoulder, in a jealousy-inducing gesture of such grace. “We wanted to see how things went, before mentioning it to anyone.”

 

“And?” Mingyu prompted, now too curious to indulge in eating again just yet.

 

The smile that unfolded across Minghao's face said it all, really. “I'm telling you now, aren't I?”

 

There was a high pitched whistle of awe; Wonwoo, from where he was sitting comfortably.

 

“You sly bastard,” Mingyu said, sounding impressed.

 

Minghao laughed. He dropped some meat on top of Mingyu's bowl, reminding him to eat up. “Anyway, congrats. I'm happy for you. You seem happy, with Seokmin.”

 

Mingyu couldn't help the way his heart fluttered, just at the sound of that, of Seokmin's name, at the idea of a _them_. The grin that spread across his face was wide, and if Mingyu had had a tail like his spirit, it would have been wagging with enthusiasm in that moment. “I am. I really am.”

 

“You sap,” Minghao teased, poking at Mingyu's leg with his foot beneath the table. “Stop that.”

 

“Sorry,” Mingyu said, not meaning it at all. The smile never faded from his face, as he began to eat his food. “I can't do that.”  
  


**  
  


Dating, Mingyu found, was a little weird, and a bit difficult, and a lot exciting. He was glad it was with Seokmin, because there was an added sense of security, knowing he was going through this with someone he counted as a friend, now, as well as his boyfriend (and that was a thought that still gave Mingyu a giddy, electric tingle right down his spine, every single time he thought of it – _boyfriend_ – Seokmin was his boyfriend).

 

It had been a long, long time since he'd dated someone seriously. He'd been single for well over a year by the time things began with Seokmin, but before that, it had been a good five years since he'd experienced the giddy, always exciting, first flushes of a relationship and feelings. He'd gotten to that point, in the past, where they had grown comfortable together – perhaps too comfortable, in hindsight – where they had known each other inside and out, where he didn't need to worry as much about how he looked or what he said, because there had been five years of love behind them. Until there hadn't been.

 

And this time around, Mingyu was older, too. Not a silly college student who'd only just found himself. A working, responsible, adult, who paid taxes and bills and worried over finding his first grey hair. His heart didn't seem to care that he was meant to be older, however, because every damn time he saw Seokmin, or heard his voice, or even received a sweet text from him, it was leaping with excitement inside of his chest, its beating flustered and flighty.

 

It was scary, he would think to himself sometimes. In the middle of the night, when he couldn't sleep, and he'd whisper his fears out loud, sharing them only with Wonwoo and the darkness. He couldn't forget the pain of when love broke down, and everything fell apart, and having to deal with finding all the pieces of himself again and putting them back together within an eternally changed life. The thought of that happening again really did scare him.

 

But it felt like, whenever he had those moments of fear, Seokmin would smile at him, or take hold of Mingyu's hand, or press a sweet kiss to his lips, and Mingyu would be brought back to the here and the now, and be reminded of just why it was that he wanted to try this all over again.

 

“Seokmin's worth it,” Wonwoo told him one night, and that alone, to Mingyu, said enough. If his ever cautious, thoughtful spirit, was moved by the same emotions that were coursing through Mingyu, then he had to trust to this new direction in his life.

 

And he found, as the months rushed by and the year pushed them into a hot and muggy July, that time was making it easier. And only served to keep his heart growing, too.  
  
The last time he’d gone home to visit his mother, too, and told her, the first thing she’d said to Mingyu, upon hearing his news and seeing how happy he was, was: “When can I start planning the wedding?” It had been a joke, and they’d laughed - even as a part of Mingyu had wanted to choke at the idea - but he’d known then, that when he did take Seokmin to meet his mother, they would love each other, too.  
  
“More than she does you, probably,” Wonwoo had joked with Mingyu, laughing when Mingyu had looked at him sadly.  
  
“But you’re right,” he’d agreed, after a moment’s consideration. “Anyone would love him more, really.”  
  


 

They were lying across Seokmin's couch, one lazy Sunday afternoon, catching up on a drama that they'd missed a couple of months ago. It was pretty good so far, Mingyu thought, enjoying watching as the younger man tried to quietly woo the older woman, who initially had only seen him as a younger brother figure.

 

“He's so cute,” Seokmin all but whined, his head cushioned in Mingyu's lap as they watched. On screen, the male lead was smiling, clearly enamoured by the leading lady.

 

Mingyu huffed, and reached down, flicking lightly at Seokmin's nose. His other hand was busy, running through the dark brown strands of Seokmin's hair.

 

“Excuse you.”

 

Seokmin tilted his head towards Mingyu, an amused smile on his face. “But, just look at him! He's so sweet. He smiles so much when he's around her! It's adorable.”

 

Mingyu's eyes went back to the screen, and okay, he had to admit that the actor _did_ have a cute smile, but it was nothing compared to Seokmin's, which still had the power to root Mingyu to the spot, and make him question if Seokmin was even real.

 

“I'm sorry, but who am I? Why is my boyfriend suddenly enamoured with some dumb guy in a drama?”

 

Seokmin laughed. He reached up, tapping the side of Mingyu's face with the back of his hand. “Aw, your jealousy is showing. You're turning green.”

 

“I'm not jealous,” Mingyu insisted. Though he reached out, capturing Seokmin's wayward fingers, and tucked their now clasped hands close to his chest. The affectionate smile that spread across Seokmin's face was enough to make Mingyu wonder if his heart was suddenly failing him, because it had definitely skipped a beat or two there. The back of his neck felt hot.

 

“Don't think I've forgotten about that giant crush you have on Gong Yoo.”

 

“Hey!” Mingyu said, suddenly feeling defensive. “That man is like...he's like a beautiful dinosaur! There's no way a person can't have a crush on a face like that.”

 

Seokmin was nodding, until he burst out laughing at Mingyu's words, shaking in Mingyu's lap now with amusement. “A beautiful dinosaur? Wow, with lines like that, how did you ever manage to get a boyfriend?”

 

Mingyu jiggled his legs a little, unsettling Seokmin's head, in revenge. “I should be asking _you_ that, you're the one that fell for the terrible lines in the first place.”

 

Seokmin pretended to look as if he'd only just realised this. “Ah, yeah, you're right. I _do_ wonder how that happened, now you mention it.”

 

“Suddenly I'm single again.”

 

Seokmin's laughter was loud and infectious, and it took all of Mingyu to resist joining in, and try to keep the pout on his face, instead. Seokmin shifted, his fingers leaving Mingyu's, as he pushed himself up, until he was sitting next to Mingyu now instead. Mingyu looked over at him, curiosity trying to erase the silly pout he still held.

 

“Be quiet, you dork,” Seokmin said.

 

“Why should I be?” Mingyu challenged.

 

Seokmin leaned in close, and Mingyu suddenly forgot how to breathe, with that beautiful face now so close to his own. He wondered if Seokmin's nearness would always do this to him, try to rob him of breath and a properly beating heart – he hoped so, anyway.

 

For a moment, time hung softly around them, and they just looked into each other's faces; Mingyu could see his own blush mirrored across Seokmin's cheeks. This side of their relationship was still new and, largely, uncharted territory for them together. Mingyu hadn't necessarily planned on taking things slowly, although perhaps the part of him that was concerned with things going _right_ this time had a small part to play in it. But in actuality, it was just the pace they'd fallen into, and Seokmin seemed happy to take things as Mingyu needed to.

 

All the hand-holding, and cuddling, and running fingers through hair, had been easy enough to grow used to. But there was something still, about having Seokmin's face so close to his own, that had Mingyu feeling suddenly electric.

 

His eyes fell to Seokmin's lips, as he began to speak again, a little hypnotised.

 

“Because I want to kiss you,” Seokmin murmured, leaning in closer still. Mingyu felt the cool skin of Seokmin's palm, as it pressed against the back of his flushed neck, gently guiding his face forward. “And you talking makes that difficult.”

 

Mingyu's lips quirked up into a smile. “Noted,” he said.

 

Then, there was no more room for words, because Seokmin was leaning in, their breaths mingling briefly, before their lips met. It wasn't their first kiss, not by far, and yet it felt like the first time all over again, Mingyu thought, as their mouths moved together, and he wanted to let himself all but sink into Seokmin's sweet, insistent kiss. His arms reached around Seokmin's shoulders, pulling them closer together.

 

Not far from them lay Seungcheol and Wonwoo, curled up so impossibly close together that golden fur mingled with cream, and there were soft, happy little sighs as they nuzzled at each other.

 

And behind them all, the drama played on, forgotten; they were busy making their own romance.

  
  


Mingyu woke up suddenly in the middle of the night, his stomach lurching almost as if he were on a rollercoaster. Seokmin's body was still curled around his own, holding him close. One part of Mingyu's sleepy mind couldn't ignore the fact that they were both still almost naked.

 

“Gyu,” Seokmin's voice came softly against his ear. Mingyu turned, blinking until he could make out Seokmin's face in the dark. “Look.”

 

He looked to the side, and finally understood just what it was that had woken him up, and why his stomach felt like it was floating around, upside-down, inside of him. On the bed beside him was Seungcheol, curled up into a tight ball, looking surprisingly small for the size he was. His head was resting against Mingyu's bare shoulder, and though he looked like he was asleep, Mingyu could see Seungcheol's eyes, open and looking up at him.

 

Mingyu pulled in a sharp breath of air, surprised, and that feeling quivered once again inside of him, giddy and dizzying. He could feel the softness of Seungcheol's fur, against the bare skin of his shoulder.

 

Mingyu stared in wonder from Seungcheol, before looking back to Seokmin again. By the look on Seokmin's face, he too was experiencing something similar to Mingyu.

 

“This has never happened to me before,” Seokmin whispered. Seungcheol's tail thudded, once, against the mattress.

 

He heard a sharp intake of breath from beside him – felt it fan across the back of his neck. There was a ripple of a sensation that worked its way through Mingyu, a shiver, as if fingertips were dancing across his heart, his soul. When he turned, it was to see that Wonwoo had pressed himself now in between them both, clearly touching Seokmin as well as Mingyu.

 

Mingyu could almost feel the shiver that worked its way down Seokmin's spine – because he could feel it spread through Wonwoo's fur, as it tingled then down the length of Mingyu's body, also.

 

“It's...it's really something, isn't it?” Mingyu said, sounding as awed as Seokmin looked. He was still lost for words, seemingly, and all he could do was look between both of their spirits, to Mingyu, and back again.

 

The moment hung between them, and it was important, but there was a lightness to it, a sense of joy that neither of them could put into words. It meant something, when touched by someone else's spirit. In a way, it was as if Mingyu and Seokmin were now touching each other's souls.

 

There was a sense of intimacy and closeness, that spread between them then, like a warm blanket. Mingyu adjusted himself, until he had one hand curled up in Seungcheol's golden fur, revelling in the softness, and his other hand resting against the bare skin of Seokmin's stomach. In a strange way, when Seokmin spread his fingers through Wonwoo's fur, Mingyu could feel it for himself, and he shivered at the impossible intimacy of the moment.

 

They smiled at each other, the fingers of Seokmin's other hand curling easily behind Mingyu's neck; a favourite spot to linger, Mingyu had learned.

 

And they laid there together, just breathing in the moment, and feeling, hearts thudding heavily between them all.

 

It had taken him a long time, Mingyu thought, to get to this point in his life again. It had been hard, at times, but now that he was here, he could really see this moment, and appreciate how far he had come. It seemed to him that, finally, he'd regained all the pieces of himself again, and found some new ones along the way. And he felt content, with the way they'd all finally settled within him; not the same as before, a little bit different, but not any worse.

 

Mingyu had found himself again, and grown still beyond that.

 

A warmth had settled, comfortable inside his heart, in the space that Seokmin had made for himself. Mingyu hoped to keep him there for a long time yet to come.

 


	9. Postlude

_“Let's play a game,” Mingyu said._

 

_Seokmin turned his head, glancing over at him. “That doesn't sound good,” he teased. “What kind of game?”_

 

_Mingyu grinned. “Say yes, first.”_

 

_Seokmin rolled his eyes, but nodded his head. He rolled over, until he was lying on his side on the bed, facing Mingyu. The windows all but rattled, with the cold, December storm that battered against them. But everything was warm and cosy, between them and the blankets that covered them. Seokmin would complain a little about being overly warm, but Mingyu hated sleeping, and waking up, in the cold. Although waking up to Seokmin's body pressed up behind his own did wonders for keeping him warm, these days._

 

_“Say it,” Mingyu said, badgering until Seokmin laughed out loud, and shook his head in defeat. “Yes, yes! What's this game, then?”_

 

_“First impressions,” Mingyu said, and then quickly, before Seokmin had a chance to get a word in, added, “You first. Go!”_

 

_“Gyu!” Seokmin said, and reached out to push teasingly at Mingyu's shoulder. His bare skin shivered beneath the brief, playful touch. The grin lingered still on Mingyu's lips, and he was all teeth as he laughed._

 

_“Go on,” he insisted._

 

_Seokmin sighed, trying to make it sound as if he was long-suffering, but he couldn't really keep the smile off his own face, either. There was enough light, from a dimly lit lamp on the side table, for Mingyu to appreciate how bright Seokmin's smile still was. He looked beautiful, with the way the pale light cast against his face like this. He looked beautiful in any light, though, Mingyu thought. Wonwoo liked to tell him he was just terribly biased. Mingyu liked to tell Wonwoo that he didn't care._

 

_“Okay,” Seokmin said, shifting a little again; impossible to stay entirely still, as Mingyu had learnt. He curled his hands as a cushion beneath his cheek, and looked over at Mingyu, as they laid close together, though not quite touching. “I guess, my first thoughts when I met you were something like: stupidly tall, and handsome.”_

 

_Mingyu's smile widened. He stretched out one of his legs, tangling it between Seokmin's, linking at least some of themselves with each other._

 

_“But then,” Seokmin continued, and even in the dim lighting, Mingyu was sure he could see the playful twinkle in Seokmin's eyes, “when I got to know you, I realised the truth. That you were actually stupid, tall and handsome.”_

 

_It took a moment, and then Mingyu's grin fell, his mouth dropping open in faux outrage. “Hey!” He said, shoving playfully at Seokmin's shoulder. Seokmin laughed, trying to scoot away across the bed, but with one of Mingyu's long legs still hooked around his own, he didn't get far._

 

_“I'm sorry, but it's true,” Seokmin said, trying to defend himself. He was laughing now, and squirming, as Mingyu reached out with both hands, finding all of Seokmin's weak spots; he was especially ticklish, around the waist. “I-” the words broke off as Seokmin let out a howling shriek of laughter, and tried again to squirm away, with no success. “You don't act at all the way you look!”_

 

_Mingyu's fingers paused in their quest for revenge, and now he frowned at Seokmin. “What do you mean?”_

 

_Seokmin gestured towards Mingyu's face. “You know, you have all...this going on,” he began, “but when you open your mouth...”_

 

_Mingyu's mouth, this time, remained firmly shut, lips turning down into a ridiculous pout, making Seokmin laugh out loud._

 

_“Seokminnie,” Mingyu whined, “why are you so mean to me?” He was trying to play up the cuteness, which was probably a little ridiculous in a man of his age, but Seokmin was probably equally as biased towards him as Mingyu was about Seokmin, and all he did was laugh in response._

 

_Seokmin shuffled himself closer, arms reaching out towards Mingyu, enveloping him in a hug and pulling them closer together. Mingyu could feel Seokmin's laughter, as he pressed his face against the curve of Mingyu's shoulder._

 

_“But I love you for it,” he assured, pressing a sweet kiss to Mingyu's collarbone. “So don't worry.”_

 

_The elephants awoke inside Mingyu's chest, trampling inside of him in their wild joy. He would never tire of hearing those words, he thought, whether they were said in playful teasing, or meant with earnest feeling. There was no sign whatsoever now of any kind of pout; Mingyu couldn't keep the wide, lopsided grin from his face._

 

_“You're the worst,” he told Seokmin, laughing, before wrapping his own arms around Seokmin's waist. The force of his hug was enough to roll them over once, and Seokmin let out a ridiculous squawk, as they nearly toppled off the bed together._

 

_“You're both the worst!” Came Seungcheol's voice, sounding a little grumpy, from where he and Wonwoo were curled up in a soft bed of their own._

 

_“Why are you so loud?” Wonwoo accused, levelling his gaze at both Mingyu and Seokmin in turn._

 

_Seokmin and Mingyu shared a look, before both of them burst out into laughter. It took a good few minutes for the laughter to subside, and when it did, they were left there, still wrapped up together, smiling._

 

_“You're the worst,” Mingyu said again, one of his hands coming up to brush through Seokmin's hair. There was such care and tenderness in the motion, and Mingyu could see as Seokmin's face softened in that moment, and once again, he found himself struck by the beauty of this man before him. It stunned him sometimes, how Seokmin would continue to call Mingyu the handsome one, when it was Mingyu who was constantly caught short of breath, just looking over at this man he held tightly within his arms._

 

_“But I love you for it anyway.”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've made it through the entirety of this monster, then thank you so, so much, because I actually can't believe anyone would sit through 50,000 words of my writing, so, you're amazing? This is actually now the longest fic I have ever written and honestly, I had such a blast writing it, and I hope that it was even half as enjoyable to read as it was for me to write! This was a bit of a personal journey for me, as it started off as a kind of catharsis fic for myself, and then just grew from there. A lot of myself went into this, and I just hope that people can enjoy it!
> 
> Also massive thanks to my beta, for actually reading through 53,000 words of my gibberish, and helping so much through the general process, you're amazing! And thanks to the mods as well for putting on this event, and helping to inspire the most words I've ever written for a single fic, I had a great time with this!
> 
> I'm so soft for these two, can you tell?


End file.
